Badly titled Adventures in Space
by DRWPJT
Summary: Yeah I'm rubbish at titles (and synopsises). Commander Shepard doesn't have a weakness, a fact anyone who's ever seen her vulnerable will vehemently attest to. Some scenes you haven't seen before and some you have. ME3, eventual Traynor romance. I don't own the characters or the universe. Definitely contains swearing. Some non-priority missions may occur out of order.
1. Chapter 1

" **SHEPARD!"**

It was a shout of horror. Distress mixed with fear and panic in the subvocals. Hundreds of words could be used to describe the emotions carried in that single cry and it still wouldn't be enough to fully convey the feelings washing through the screamer in that instant.

Nearly a thousand kilometers above them Specialist Traynor's breath stuck in her throat at the noise, she pulled up the commander's live action video feed on her screen but the image was pixelated and broken, unable to make out anything useful.

" **Vega!** Covering Fire!"

A subtle flicker on another window catches Traynor's attention and she curses, typing out a string of code.

"Mierda! Shepard's down. We need immediate evac! I say again **Shepard's Down!** "

 _Fuck! Focus._ She finishes another garbage code for Ceberus to fight through, pings off an important vector update to the Alliance ships finally joining them in orbit and carries straight on to the next task.

"Copy that. I'm nearly at the Normandy. Let me throw out the civilians and I'll be right back." The shuttle pilot's voice sounded calm but Traynor knew him well enough to detect the slightest of cracks to the facade.

"Cortez, hold that shuttle! I'm on my way down." There was no attempt by the asari to hide the worry in her voice, but it was smothered by a layer of assured command. "Garrus, you better take care of that Atlas before we get there."

"Working on it Liara!" The rest of the mission passed as a blur. Traynor splitting her attention between the ground team and the multitude of feeds she had to manage, struggling to focus on her job. The klaxon sounded the alert. Medic to shuttle bay. All personnel clear the corridors. Hold the lift.

It was another two hours before Traynor was relieved from her post. The lift doors opening on Deck 3 to reveal the memorial wall was not comforting, neither was the unnatural hush as she rounded the corner. The ground team were still in their armour. James sat on a table, feet on a chair, elbows on knees, chin resting on his fists. Liara propped against a wall. Garrus pacing up and down the length of the med bay, his route the only clear space in the hall as everyone not currently on duty crammed in, staring at the screened off med bay. As time ticked silently by, the whole ship waited with baited breath.

...

 **Author's note:** Shepard is a colony war hero who wants to be a paragon but got caught in a cycle of renegade actions. This will eventually grow into a Traynor romance but they're not together yet. I didn't have the patience to do a full replay of ME1  & 2 for my Traynor romance so this is the default ME3 story without importing any save files. That means Wreave is in charge of the krogan, half the crew including Thane and Jack died and a whole host of other things that may pop up the further I get into the game. The exception to this is the Arrival DLC. Shepard totally killed those batarians, no use trying to blame it on 'Alliance marines', everyone knows who really did it.

This is a bit of a random start point but it's the earliest scene I've managed to write. Everything else that I've written so far follows on after it. I do have a few loose scenarios from before but I haven't managed to formulate them in my mind properly/fully (most important fact; Shepard shot Mordin because she couldn't trust Wreave and doing so hurt). If I ever manage to do the earlier scenes justice then they might get added at a later date and the story reordered.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been 3 days since they left the planet's orbit. They had been in the arse end of nowhere and even at FTL speeds it would take a long time to reach the Citadel. The whole crew was tense, nerves fraying and tempers snapping. Morale was the lowest she'd ever seen and following a shipwide ban on booze by an irate Chakwas, most people went straight to bed when they weren't on duty.

Samantha however, couldn't sleep, so was tucked in one corner of the mess hall with a data pad. Chakwas had left the med bay to do another tour of the refugees in the cargo hold and all was quiet. A sudden noise made her look up, rushing over to the kitchen counter with concern.

"Commander! What are you doing?" The soldier half turned, faint scar lines glowing softly against her face, one hand clamped to her side, the other loosely clutching the coffee pot.

"Makin' coffeee." There was a slight slur to the speech. The kind that occurs when the brain is either fighting through a fog of exhaustion or a haze of painkillers. This could be either... or both.

"but you shouldn't be..."

"Are you saying I can't make coffee on my own ship!" Apparently anger could cut a clear line through the fog. As if the growl hadn't been enough of a clue to the commander's mood Traynor thought she saw a flash of red behind the eyes.

"No, no... it's not that." She furiously backpedalled remembering an email sent by Joker to all personnel after first leaving the Citadel. It had been titled 'Working with the Commander; how to not get killed'. Everyone had had a good laugh before the differently worded memo by Dr Chakwas appeared shortly after 'just to clarify'.

"I just meant..." _Shit, come on brain what could I mean?_ "If you sit down I can make you some fresh. This stuff's been stewing for hours." For a moment it looked like the commander would argue but a grunt and a nod signified her consent. The slight grimace and tightening of fingers against her body clearly indicated the decision making process. Regardless, she slumped down into a chair and with a sigh of relief Traynor turned to her task.

It reminded Samantha of a dog. Surely human's did it too, but there was something about the way the commander's eyes would half close, and then jerk back to fully open for a moment before the lids slowly started to droop again that reminded her of an exhausted pet desperate not to miss anything.

"No!" The firm voice made Traynor freeze. "You **don't** need an omni-tool to make coffee."

"I'm sure Dr. Chakwas would"

"not have left me unattended if she was even slightly concerned." _Well I suppose there_ _ **is**_ _logic in that. Or maybe she just expected the sedative to last until she got back._

"So..." A mug is placed in front of her and the commander takes a sip before continuing. "How long this time?"

"Three days."

"Hmm, better than two years I suppose. I better get up to the war room, find out how much worse everything has got."

"I... can't work out if you're being negative about our allies or just have a really high opinion about yourself."

"Oh, I don't buy into all that hero hype about me. I just happen to have noticed a rather worrying trend. The beacon on Eden Prime knocked me out for 15 hours. Saren and the geth take a tour of the galaxy with Sovereign headlining. Then I wake up after two years of... whatever they're calling it, and there's sodding Collectors everywhere. Then I lose almost two days in the Bahak and..." Looking down at the table Shepard takes another gulp of coffee before finishing in a low sombre voice: "Well... Let's just say it's best if we try to keep me conscious and not tempt fate."

"What **did** happen in the Bahak system Commander?" Her head jerked up at the question, shoulders tensing, eyes locking with Traynor's. They seemed to burn as she snarled.

"Didn't you hear Specialist? Genocide happened. I'm a fucking mass murderer. Slaughterer of the innocent. It must have been on ANN."

Of course she'd heard, but it had been hard to associate such accusations with the woman who'd saved Elysium, Feros, the Citadel and most of Horizon. To hear it first hand was different. There was a saying: the eyes are a window to the soul and as she stared into that face it was clear the commander's soul was looking back from the depths of Hell. The only question being, was she there as sinner or devil? Traynor picked up the metaphorical bottle and without knowing if it would be water or petrol, she poured...

"You must have had a reason..."

The flame flickered out. Shoulders slumped. Face looked haggard and drawn.

"The end justifies the means? That's becoming an increasingly popular phrase these days. But does it? Does it really? How many times can we use that excuse before we end up like Cerberus? 300,000 lives... Actually I believe it was closer to three-oh-five..."

"The reports said you claimed the reapers were on us. That you bought us time..."

"YES! AND LOOK HOW THEY SPENT THAT TIME! Six months on a damn trial! Should I be stood against a wall and shot or strapped to a chair? How can they take me at my word when there's no sign of reapers? Throw me in a varren pit or set me on fire? Of course I'd slaughter batarians, I was at Mindoir and the Blitz. **Bah**! Only thing that even gave them pause was when I said I'd have done the same to a human colony..."

"If you hadn't they would still have died. Maybe someone listened and prepared. Hey, at least it gave us time to retrofit the Normandy." The attempt at lightheartedness appeared to go unnoticed.

"It **was** necessary. I know that. But that doesn't make it right. I pressed the button and all those deaths are on me. At some point in this war I know I might have to make that call again, and I will. Sometimes there's little choice. I will **always** do what's necessary, but the day I think it's acceptable... When I finally forget that mass sacrifice means tragedy... that's the line..."

There was silence for a moment. Before the woozy look started settling on Shepard's face once more, confusion appearing alongside.

"Hang on! Why are we talking about this? How... I would never be talki... YOU!" Traynor tried not to jump as the commander pointed at her. The quickly changing moods were hard to adapt to.

"You, Specialist! You're techie, get in Chakwas' files and find out what drugs she's got me on."

"Umm, I'm not sure the Alliance would take kindly to hacking confidential patient files..."

"True, you're far too pretty for a firing squad. Give me the 'tool and **I'll** do it!"

Traynor froze in shock, mouth agape as she tried to keep up. _Why would I get the firing squad for that? I was thinking docked pay, a note on my file, maybe a dishonourable discharge... Wait, pretty? Did the commander just call me pretty? Well it doesn't mean anything, she must be doped up fairly high right now. Yeah, so high she's been talking openly about things she would never talk about._

"Omni-tool..." Shepard sat with her hand out expectantly. "... Please?"

The silence was broken by the quiet sound of the elevator opening. Shepard crouched down low as Dr Chakwas appeared and gave a conspiratorial whisper to Traynor.

"As soon as she's through the med bay door, we leg it to the lift. Got it?" Traynor looked at her C.O. appraisingly. Specifically how she was sat cross legged on a mess hall stool and the left hand that had been clenched tight to the body throughout the entire conversation. Her calculations on which direction the officer would most likely fall over in upon moving were fortunately interrupted.

"Shit! She's seen us... She's coming over"

"Commander. You're awake." Small bags were starting to form under the doctor's eyes but there was no tiredness in her voice as she remained consummately professional. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." The response fired back almost before the question was finished. Shepard finally removing her supportive hand, sitting up straight and alert. The doctor merely shook her head.

"Commander you have four broken..."

"WHY!? Why ask how I am if you're just going to ignore me in favour of your medical mumbo jumbo?" The deception having clearly failed, the hand returned to position. Chakwas employing a tight lipped smile.

"Because one day you might tell me the truth."

"Commander Shepard, Alliance military, service number: 5923-AC-2826. Commander Shepard, Allia..." Traynor's initial fear is soothed as she observed the genuine smiles between the two women, apparently enjoying a long standing joke.

"Come on Shepard. Back to the med bay." One smile instantly vanishes, replaced by the usual stubbornness associated with Commander _Bloody_ Shepard.

"No. Three days is long enough. I'm going to the War room. Damn Galaxy's not going to fix itself you know."

"Shepard!" The doctor's tone is stern now, gaze calculating.

"I accept your word as law in the med bay but look, we're outside. You're too late. My ship, my rules." She's managed to stand up, arms folded, glare fixed. "You don't like it find another berth". Chakwas sighs resignedly.

"OK Commander, **if** you can make it to the war room, WALKING and without leaning on anything, then I'll declare you fit for duty." Smiling victoriously Shepard takes a step forward. " **But**... Fail and you will not only return to the med bay until I free you, but my jurisdiction will increase so that you have to follow the command 'report to the med bay', along with any other medical instructions, including the taking of medication, when ordered anywhere on this vessel or planet side." Shepard stops moving. "Do you accept my challenge Commander?"

...

"... Do you think I'm brain damaged Doc?" Shepard scowls, Chakwas represses a smile. "That would make you bloody omni-potent. What makes you think I'll agree to those terms?"

"Because that's the only terms you'll get. Unless, you return to med bay and we keep the status quo. Your choice Commander."

Shepard manages five more steps before stopping. Her right hand clenches tight into a fist, after a few seconds it starts glowing with biotic energy. Chakwas hasn't moved since making the ultimatum but now tilts her head towards Specialist Traynor.

"Are you OK Samantha? You appear to be in shock." Traynor simply nods mutely, eyes still locked on the commander.

"I BLOODY HATE YOU!" comes the call as she turns left towards the med bay. A further three steps before finally collapsing to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

The commander was pacing in the CIC. Traynor wouldn't have thought it possible in as narrow a space as the railed off section by the galaxy map, but then the commander did have a habit of doing impossible things. Normally of a more spectacular nature. The map itself had been replaced with video feeds from the ground team as they raided a Cerberus base and the restless Shepard would glance at it each time she turned to pace the other way. In Traynor's eyes it seemed to be progressing to a similar standard as any other mission, but the commander was on edge. Seeing targets without being able do anything about them was a new and frustrating experience.

"I don't know how you stand this." The soldier paused to address the nearby Comms specialist.

"You get used to it Commander. Besides I keep my hands busy." Traynor wiggled her fingers emphatically before returning them to their job on the data feeds. She almost panicked when a venomous glare appeared on the commander's face, but it glided past her over to the service elevator. After a beat she turned heel and resumed pacing. Traynor risked a glance over her shoulder to see what was going on.

Doctor Chakwas and Engineer Adams were deep in conversation. By the looks of things Adams had been leaving at the end of his shift just as Chakwas left the elevator. _Except Adams works on Deck 4. And the lift door is already closed so they've been there a while. Ah... Of course..._

Apparently suddenly moving your biotic barrier in order to place it round a group of civilians instead of yourself, while running across large open ground, in front of an Atlas mech was neither an Alliance approved, nor more importantly a Chakwas approved, battle tactic. Armour alone can not stand up to multiple missile strikes. The commander was lucky to be alive. Did she even realise how serious her injuries were? Yes she could leave the med bay but would have to report back twice a day for checkup. Fine she could return to light duties but under no circumstance would the doctor clear her for ground missions. Yes the doc knew there was a war on. No Shepard would not be allowed to do that. Or that! If she was even _thinking_ of doing **that** then Chakwas would be keeping a very close eye on her.

 _And they know that Shepard knows they know she knows why they're stood there. Marvelous._

Traynor kept working at her console until a flicker of blue light caught her attention, her head snapped up to see the commander facing the large display, whole body lit with biotic energy. One hand was held behind her in a 'stop, it's fine' gesture presumably meant for Chakwas, suggesting to Sam this was an accidental flare up. The light quickly receded as Shepard channeled all the energy to her other hand, playing with the resultant ball a moment before dispersing it and clutching the rails to either side with a deep breath.

"SPECIALIST TRAYNOR! You're good at multi-tasking. Distract me."

"Umm... How Commander?"

"I don't know. What sort of things distract you?"

"You mostly, err, I mean..." The ghost of a smile briefly flitted across the commander's face as she minimised the video feeds and Samantha grasped the first lifeline she saw.

"Look at that galaxy map. Do you know how many strategy games are built from that interface?"

"You play strategy games?"

"A few. Most are too flashy though. I prefer chess." The commander walked down the steps and settled beside the specialist.

"Hmm, I've never played chess."

"What never? Not even once! What were you doing all your life?" Shepard chuckled wryly.

"Let's see now... In my childhood I ran around the woods on Mindoir looking for wildlife. Then in my teens I ran round the woods after girls... Ah yes, then in my twenties I ran round the galaxy killing stuff for the Alliance..." She shrugged. "Guess I just never found the time to learn."

"My dad taught me. I have a set made from rose quartz and hematite back home. I like the feel of something solid in my hands."

"Well, maybe you could teach me sometime. Especially now that I know your weakness."

"It'd be more fun than playing EDI, EDI doesn't sweat."

"You sweat playing chess?"

"Depends on how much fun we're having." A look of concentration appeared on the specialist's face and her typing speed increased. Recognising the signs of an important job Shepard kept quiet but quickly became bored. Standing up she put one hand on top of the rail and hurdled over it, earning a withering glare from Chakwas. She sighed, leaning back against the rail and tapping on it with her fingers, before glancing up at the ceiling.

"EDI, do you have any processing power spare for non critical conversations?"

"Of course Shepard. What do you need?"

"Oh, nothing. Just bored. You got any more of those questions on human behavior you need answering?"

"A few, but I'm not sure if now is the right time..."

"Come on EDI, it's not like there's anything else I can do with the doc watching me. Ask away."

"Very well. Shepard, you have firsthand sexual experience. How do you know if someone is romantically invested?"

A snort as the commander is caught off guard, hand shooting up to rub the back of her head and looking round to check if anyone's noticed.

"Uh... Well, umm... I'm suddenly less sure I want this conversation. Is there a reason you're wondering about this?"

Traynor is looking suspiciously straight ahead, no trace of even a repressed smile on a completely blank face. Damn, Shepard knew that pose. It had taken her weeks to master back in basic. She was 100% sure the specialist had overheard and 99.8% certain she found the situation highly amusing.

"I have been running scenarios to analyze Jeff's behavior. I believe he has a strong affectionate attachment to me, but he has not stated it to anyone yet. Perhaps we could discuss how to provoke him into an emotional commitment."

There was a pause as the commander seemed to process a few varying ideas, fingers tapping idly against her cheek. When she spoke next there was only curiosity in her voice.

"EDI, you said having a body made you feel like a member of crew..."

"That is correct. The more people treat me like a person the more I feel this way."

"Do you... consider yourself a member of the Alliance?"

"I'm an Alliance vessel Shepard"

"That's... not where I was heading." The awkwardness was back. "I mean... Well... How do you categorise yourself? You realise the Alliance has rules about fraternization..."

"Ah... I see what you mean. I may have to process your question regarding identity further." There almost seemed to be a touch of disappointment to the synthetic's voice and when the commander next spoke her voice had become softer, more sympathetic sounding.

"EDI... Do you want to know **my** rules about fraternization?"

"Are they different?" The commander gave a small nod, before launching into what sounded like an oft used speech.

"As far as I'm concerned my crew's personal relationships are their own. As long as there's no abuse of rank, no pregnancies, no STD's and everyone involved is fully consenting to all activities then I don't care. **Unless** it get's in the way of their work. The moment that happens I have to start chucking people out the airlock... Although that could get problematic with you, so don't screw it up."

"I'll try. Thank you Shepard... Shepard? Does this mean I have your permission?"

"Oh no! No, no, no, no. I'm not falling for that EDI. You get the same treatment as the rest of my crew. I'll happily bake a cake for your anniversary but the moment some Admiral comes sniffing around that's it: 'I never knew the two of them were so close'."


	4. Emergency Frequency

The Normandy was still in night cycle as it neared the Citadel. After a rough couple of days, Shepard had allocated a skeleton crew for this last part of the journey. While risky behavior for war time, there had been no reports of reapers in the Widow system and considering the escape from Earth she was confident in EDI's abilities, the crew needed rest. That explained the hush as she made her way through an almost empty CIC, but not the growing sense of unease as she neared the cockpit.

"Alliance Control, this is SSV Normandy, are we clear to descend?" The pilot shook his head at the commander as she reached his chair and shot him a questioning look. There was only silence as he repeated the docking request before deciding to scan emergency frequencies.

"To all incoming ships. The Citadel is under attack. Do not attempt to land! Cerberus is controlling all docks. Notify the Citadel Fleet. Send reinforcements to C-Sec headquarters, if that falls the station falls."

"Where do you want the Normandy?" Joker asked, but Shepard was already moving as she dished out orders:

"Since she can't dock, we'll deploy in the shuttle. Get us in near C-Sec headquarters. Wake up key personnel but do it quietly, no klaxon. I don't want to panic the refugees in the hold." She had her omni-tool out, scrolling through locations and live stats for ship personnel. According to the readings most of the ground team were asleep. Waking them would waste precious time.

"EDI, time to test that body of your's ground side... James! You're awake. Get Cortez and suit up. No time for coffee, grab stim shots if either of you need it."

She reached the lift, hitting the button for the shuttle bay. Irritation flashed across her face as the doors opened on deck 3, mood darkening further as she noticed the doctor. Chakwas held up a hand to forestall any rebuttals, entering the lift and hitting deck 5 before turning to Shepard and holding up a pouch.

"There will be a headache, which I know you'll ignore. With your upgrades it's hard to predict a time frame, but depending how hard you push yourself it could be anything between a couple of minutes and a full half hour later your lungs will feel on fire, then your senses will get disorientated. It'll be like being hit by a concussion grenade but even more nauseating. Once that happens you'll have approximately 15-20 seconds to get yourself into cover and apply one of these or you'll lose vision completely." The commander nodded her thanks as she accepted the package and Chakwas pulled out something that looked like an epi-pen.

" **This** , is the most powerful non-drowsy painkiller compatible for humans. DO **NOT** USE IT!" Shepard raised an eyebrow as Chakwas continued. "Unlike medigel it doesn't heal you in the slightest. It'll enable you to walk through injuries that would kill you, but they'll still kill you. Your wounds aren't fully healed yet, physical strain will exacerbate them. I'm sure you remember what happened the first time you tried to walk to the war room. Use this and you probably won't notice any new injuries you acquire until you bleed out."

The lift finally reached the shuttle bay and the two women walked side-by-side over to the armour lockers.

"For the record, as an Alliance doctor I must point out that you are not cleared for duty and are acting recklessly, endangering your own life and that of your squad. However, off the record, I know I've got no chance of stopping you right now and even at half health you're the best chance those people have. I expect to see you in the med bay when you get back, even if it's just to return this." So saying Chakwas handed over the pain killer and strode back to the lift. As the door closed she saw the commander raise two fingers to her forehead in a half salute, then turn to climb into the shuttle.

"Look after her EDI" She instructed the ceiling before going to prep the med bay, praying as always that it wouldn't be needed.


	5. Citadel Coup Traynor POV

_Typical, the one night she actually managed to get to sleep at a reasonable time and she was being woken up. If this was some..._

All protestations died as Samantha's brain caught up and processed the information her senses were supplying her with. She had thought she was getting used to life onboard a serving ship but there was a difference between participating in realtime missions and being ready to engage in said missions straight upon waking. The sight of people moving silently and purposefully in all directions, each knowing exactly what to do reminded her how inexperienced she was compared to the rest of the crew.

Fortunately her brain still functioned and she copied everyone else's as actions: Grab two stim shots from a box on the mess hall counter. Take one now, place the other in pocket. Head towards lift. Drop empty shot in new bin that had been strategically placed just there. Ah crap, they're splitting into two lines. No wait, easy; left side for deck 2, right for lower decks. She veered to the left but was waved forward and found herself three places from the front of the line. The British part of her brain shouted at herself for queue jumping but as she deciphered a pattern in the shuffling taking place opposite, the Alliance trained half reminded her that those with the most important jobs clearly needed to get into position first.

Nerves still flooded her as the lift arrived. Personnel from the right line packed themselves in tight until there was barely a cumulative inch spare and the doors closed. Why did no-one else look nervous?

Suddenly it was her turn to cram into the lift, her breathing intensified as the space around her decreased. No-one was talking, everyone running through personal checklists of what they needed to do and when in their minds. Her anxieties threatening to overwhelm her, Traynor thought back to Palaven:

 _The commander was already in her armour, weapons secured round her waist and back studying the CIC display intently as they exited FTL. First the turian fleets became discernible, then individual ships, the sheer scale of destruction slowly filtering through her brain, Traynor's breathing had become erratic. Oranges and reds were everywhere, explosions showing up clearly against what was supposed to be the dark blackness of space. Fear threatened to overwhelm her at the sight of the numerous, large, squid like Reapers. A voice cut through her panic, determined and sure._

' _Let's do this!'_

 _She'd looked up to see the warrior turn and walk down the steps towards the lift like a figure out of legend. Confidence practically radiating off her in all directions. The commander had paused at the bottom and reached out, a hand gripping Traynor's shoulder. Her eyes followed the red and white stripe up to a face that seemed completely calm, a sharp contrast to the chaos overwhelming the rest of the galaxy._

" _You'll be fine Specialist. Don't over-think things. You already know what to do. Just concentrate on breathing and your training will take care of the rest." A quick reassuring squeeze and the pressure lifted. The figure marching in to the lift, turning about face as the lift door shut._

The lift door opened.

Her breathing under control Traynor walked to her comm station, settling straight into her work. As well as the ground team's usual channel there was a secondary point to point comm link open between Shepard's omni-tool and a 'Commander Bailey'.

"Any survivors in there?" An unknown male voice came through, presumably this Bailey.

"None yet" Shepard's voice was devoid of any emotion.

"Damn it! OK, keep looking."

Traynor added a few extra firewalls round the channel to prevent it being hacked and started scanning other frequencies, linking together various C-Sec units and incorporating data from numerous sources across the Citadel, organising where to send squads for best effect and trying to help bring order to the chaos.


	6. Citadel Coup Shepard POV

Shepard tried blocking out the dull pain still present in her head as she radioed Bailey. The Executor lay dead along with two salarians. EDI was looking out a large window and Shepard joined her in time to see a chair roll away. A tactical cloak flickered and faded, revealing the councillor.

"Found her, she looks unharmed."

"Get her somewhere safe" Bailey's order came over the radio. Shepard turned, issuing instructions to the squad, but when she looked back there was a man in Cerberus armour approaching Esheel.

Reacting on instinct she shot the glass, hurdling over the window frame. Landing, standing and aiming her pistol all occurred in one smooth movement, adrenaline overriding the sharp jolt of pain that sparked through her ankle upon impact with the floor. Unfortunately the assassin's reactions were equally as quick, flipping over the councillor and blocking the commander's line of fire.

Ignoring the increasing throb in her head and a new burning sensation in her chest, Shepard circled round trying to get a clear shot on the Cerberus agent as the salarian councillor revealed Udina's treachery.

 _Pity Garrus isn't here. Height advantage from that window. Nearly turned this guy enough for a clear angle from there, would have been perfect for a sniper of his calibre. Lungs. What? Lungs! That's the part of your chest on fire._

The distraction among her thoughts caused her to half turn at a noise behind her, but it was EDI and James finally reaching the room, having elected to take the safe but slow way down.

"Three on one pal. It's over." As she turned back a few spots appeared in her vision and she tried to blink them away.

"No. Now it's fun." There was an echoey ring to his voice. Shepard still kept trying to get a better angle. Using sheer determination to focus through the symptoms pre-described to her earlier. She sees, but is unable to stop, the assassin kill Councillor Esheel. Cursing she chases after the escaping assassin, vision blurring further as she runs down a flight of stairs. Focusing to fire at the fleeing figure, it's no use, all shots flying wide. Belatedly fumbling for the pouch Chakwas provided as a shuttle rises up with the assassin standing on the roof.

...

"You OK Lola?" James crouched beside her, concerned as she knelt on all fours. She didn't respond verbally but managed to force herself up into a crouch, gesturing with hand signals for the squad to cover the approaches. Vega hesitated for a second eyeing the commander to see if she needed his help, but upon seeing the successfully applied drug he carried out his orders. EDI updating Bailey on the situation.

"Alright, move out." Shepard was back on her feet and heading purposefully towards the C-sec patrol shuttles.

"Maybe I should drive?"

"No chance Vega, you crashed the last shuttle remember"

"You're never going to let that go are you?" He eyeballed her a little longer, weighing up her health and trying to remember the distinction between mutiny and relieving an officer unfit of command. He was pretty sure the distinction was moot and either would end in death if attempted against Shepard.

"I'm fine. Come on, before he reaches the Council."

...

The shuttle shook without warning as the assassin landed on the vehicle, head bowed. He stood up, twirling a sword, Shepard pulled out her pistol and started shooting as he ran across the top of their ride.

"It's from C-Sec Shepard, of course the windows are bulletproof!" A grunt as she opened the door and pulled herself out to fire, Vega sliding into her seat. "So much for not letting me drive!"

Sparks and fire streamed out from the vehicle as their adversary plunged his sword into an apparently important section of the roof before hopping to another skycar. Shepard climbed back into the shuttle, wrestling with the controls as they plunged downwards. Pancake landing onto the Presidium.

"Not a word James. Not a word."

"Is it compulsory for the ground team to crash vehicles?"

"EDI!"

...

"ATLAS MECH!"

"Thanks, I would never have noticed." Sarcasm dripped from Shepard's voice.

"Look on the bright side, Doctor Chakwas will not be able to reprimand you for repeating previous actions; the civilians here are already dead." An almost feral growl escaped the commander's throat as she launched a powerful warp at the Atlas.

"Don't attempt any more jokes EDI. Moreau will be pissed if I destroy that body of yours."

"Too soon?"

"Too wrong." Shepard snarled before part of her brain remembered the synthetic's main basis of understanding for societal norms and acceptability was observations of the Normandy crew, _we ARE a pretty dark and twisted lot, the line is pretty thin_. "No jokes about dead civilians."

"Understood. Updating humour acceptability parameters."

"Great, now incinerate that fucker." A ball of dark energy was already primed round the commander's fist, launching it at just the right moment to interact with EDI's attack. She didn't even bother to observe the resulting explosion as she scanned ahead for more troops to engage.

...

"You might want to ease back on the biotics Commander." She spat out out some blood that had trickled into her mouth and glared at the marine but saw only concern on his face.

"I'm fine." She stated, using the back of her hand to wipe away the blood streaming from her nose.

"The lieutenant is right Shepard, I estimate a..."

"ENOUGH! Double time. We're NOT losing the rest of the council."

...

An alliance shuttle was on fire at the far side as Shepard led her team out within sight of the Council. EDI punching the door shut and deadlock sealed behind them.

"Shepard's blocking our escape, she's with Cerberus." Udina is quick to start the accusations, Ashley placing herself in the line of fire, shielding the Council and particularly Udina as best she can.

"Everybody hang on! Shepard, what's happening here?"

"Out the way. I'm only here for Udina."

"Not going to happen Shepard"

"You know me better than this Ash, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't know I was right."

"I knew the old Shepard, before you started working with Cerberus"

"We don't have time for this. Udina's behind the attack. The salarian councilor confirmed it."

"Really? My evidence suggests otherwise." Udina walks forward with his omni-tool, selecting a video to play. Ash glances down to view it but Shepard's eyes never leave her target. Even from the audio Shepard can guess what's happening and that the video must have been edited.

"What the hell Shepard?" Her gun raises back up, firmly targeting the commander.

"Seriously! You believe that Ash? Wait til you see the vid of me and Garrus in leprechaun suits, ballroom dancing in front of a thresher maw." Humanity's second Spectre doesn't seem to find the funny side.

"To hell with this! We stay here and we're dead. I'm overriding the lock" Udina strides over to a control panel.

"Get away from the console Udina." Shepard tries to maneuver past Ashley for a clean shot but the L.C steps with her, continuing to block her aim.

"Stand down. You don't want to be shot by your own marine." The situation is tense, no sign of hesitation or shaking in Williams' stance.

"Dammit Ash! If you want to stop me killing Udina then arrest him. But if he doesn't surrender to Spectre custody in the next 20 seconds then I'll do **whatever** I have to to contain the situation." Ash looks undecided. She glances behind Shepard to try and read Garrus, but the ever present turian isn't there. Her heart goes cold as her brain finally processes the sight of the mech that tried to kill her on Mars.

"Udina, open the door!"

A range of emotions flit across the commander's face, too quick to identify. In the middle of them a single shot rings out, Ash slumps to the ground. She tries to raise her pistol as the commander walks past but a heavy boot comes down on her wrist, kicking the gun out of her grasp and away. She looks on in despair as Councilor Irissa approaches Udina, being pushed away as he draws a gun. There's no time to comprehend his plan as he falls back dead with a single headshot from Shepard's pistol. Suddenly the commander is knelt in front of her, grim look on her face.

"I'm sorry Shepard, I had to take a stand. You taught me that." _Is it bad that I can recognise the sequence of hand movements across her omni-tool for non-personal medigel application? God, she's still trying to save me, after everything... What have I done?_

"Commander. The door!" Quentius calls. Shepard looks down at Ash, concern and indecisiveness momentarily visible on her face. Ashley gives a small nod and the commander's mask returns, reciprocating the gesture as she stands barking orders.

"Councilors! Behind that forklift. EDI stay back and cover them. James, you take the left, I've got the right."

There was no cover for either of them to shelter behind as sparks slid between the doors, the locking mechanism being burnt out. Shepard gathered the last of her dwindling energy reserves for one last barrier, throwing it out over both herself and Vega as the sparks reached the top, milliseconds before the door opened.

"Bailey?" Shepard's barrier fizzled out as the C-sec officer lowered his pistol upon seeing her. Out the corner of her eye she sees Vega put away a grenade.

"Made it as fast as we could Shepard..." Everyone is talking now but the adrenaline is beginning to fade, exhaustion and pain rushing in to fill the gaps it leaves behind.

"Principles are evacuated, we got a tunnel and a million more places to secure." Bailey's men move out with the councilors, leaving the Normandy team to their own devices. EDI confirms Williams is now deceased as the commander radios back to the ship.

"Traynor, you there? Any left over Cerberus we can help with?" There seems to be a longer than normal pause before getting a reply and Shepard's convinced EDI is scanning her as she reaches into her pouch for another dose of medicine.

"There's a couple of splinter groups still fighting but C-Sec is back in control. They'd be finished by the time you got there Commander". A sigh as she finds the pouch empty, she heads towards a wall, leaning back against it as she feels the darkness starting to close in.

"Fine, send the shuttle to pick us up. Stick Chakwas on it... Tell her," a wry smile graced the soldier's face. "Tell her I made it to 28 seconds."

 **Author's Note:** I really struggled with this chapter, it's a fine line between going completely off canon during scripted events and simply regurgitating exactly what happened. Hope you didn't find it too awful. Next couple of chapters will hopefully include new material instead of specific game events and with luck will be better for it.


	7. In Memoriam

The placing of the plaque had been a relatively small affair. A couple of people from the retrofit team were present, Lieutenant-Commander Williams had come aboard with Admiral Anderson for a tour while they were docked on Earth but it had been formal, hardly the situation for building comradeship, so it was mostly members of the original SR-1 at the service.

Traynor had interacted with her over comms during the escape from Earth and Mars archive mission, she hadn't really _known_ her, but something called her to be there. Now she was wondering why as she tried to focus on the service instead of her commanding officer. Sure Shepard was attractive, especially in her dress blues, but the same could be said for several other people onboard the Normandy and with far less risk of being court-martialed or spaced out an airlock. It was curiosity that kept pulling her attention back, the commander was a puzzle, a riddle to be solved, an enigma to decipher, a... _pretty damn attractive one too. Stop it brain._

There was a lot of stoicism around, people holding their emotions in check. A few of them had tears building in the bottom of their eyes, fighting their owner's brains for a chance to break out. _Marines don't cry, their eyes sweat._ Glancing back at Shepard she didn't look like someone holding her emotions in check, there simply wasn't any there. It went far beyond stoicism. Even EDI's face would have been more expressive.

"Always remember the fallen soldier." The alliance personnel snapped a salute while the aliens held various respectful poses according to their own customs and traditions. After a moments silence the salute came back down and people started leaving, keeping a respectful hush for those who weren't ready to move yet. Traynor took a detour to the mess for coffee, upon turning round to head back towards the lift she noticed a cluster of high ranking officers holding an impromptu meeting in the corridor, the commander's voice emerging from the middle of them.

"... 36 hours shore leave for all personnel. It's up to you how you organise your departments but we leave in 70 hours so I'd recommend a rolling system. **Specialist Traynor!** **Stand fast.** " Samantha froze at the order, mind racing, but the commander didn't miss a beat as she returned full flow to her conversation with the department heads. "I'm not going to force anyone to go ashore but it **is** compulsory for everyone to stop working for 36 consecutive hours. NO exceptions. Understood?" A chorus of "yes ma'am" and "aye-aye Commander" s rang out in response.

"Adams, will you still have the manpower to finish everything or shall I draft some extra grease monkeys from the Alliance playpen?"

"We'll get it done Commander."

"Fine. Think of anything you need: parts, people, chocolate chip cookies, you message me, 'Priority Alpha' regardless of the time. Right, unless anyone has anything else?" She looks at each of them in turn as they shake their heads. "Good. Dismissed." The officers dispersed as Shepard turned her attention to the Comm Specialist.

"Traynor, little job for you. Well OK, probably not little but... I want all video footage of the last mission on the Citadel. Not just the ground team's action cams but every public and private security camera we passed, time synced together so I can jump between angles during playback. Anything you can't access, hack. Anything you can't hack make a request from the owners stating Spectre authority. Also, track back footage of Lieutenant-Commander Williams. I want to know her actions from the moment she picked up the councillors onwards. Any questions?"

"Erm..." Traynor's mind was adrift. For some reason when the order to 'stand fast' reached her ears she'd been expecting a bollocking. Even though she wasn't entirely sure what she expected to be reprimanded for. The relief at merely being given more work allowed the suicidal part of her brain a chance to grab control of her voice. "... Am I allowed Priority Alpha cookie requests?" The commander frowned at her.

"No. Priority Alpha is restricted to mission critical..." Shepard paused as she recognised both the reference to her conversation with Adams a moment ago and the look of abject horror on the specialist's face as Traynor realised what she'd just said. The commander tried to lessen the sharpness in her voice. "Tell you what, finish in under six hours and I'll see that you get a batch."

...

Despite having permission to begin shore leave whenever she finished with the videos, Traynor found herself working through a couple of high priority data packages. It would have to be done eventually and she needed a distraction after watching all that footage. Upon forwarding the video files she had received a short reply: "Thanks. Cookies inbound." But when the commander strode through the CIC on her way to the airlock several hours later for her meeting with Bailey she didn't acknowledge her, or anyone else.

In spite of everything Samantha found herself opening the video files back up, focusing on two points; the moment just before the commander fired on her erstwhile comrade, and when she was crouched in front of her, trying to patch Williams back up. Jumping between various angles trying to read the commander's thoughts and feelings.

...

"The commanding officer is aboard..." Traynor jumped at the announcement, hurriedly shutting down the video feeds and wondering how long she'd been staring at them. When she looked up however, Shepard was marching away from her towards the cockpit.

...

"But how could Ash turn on you? She was one of us. She saw what happened on Virmire, on Ilos." Joker was becoming frantic and bordering on hysterical, qualities Shepard wasn't trained to handle. Well OK, technically she was, but her training recommended either a double-tap to the head or sedation and since he was a) one of the closest things she had to a friend and b) (considering recent events probably more importantly) not holding a gun, those options didn't feel right. She was out of her depth, Shepard could hardly handle her own emotions, let alone anyone else's. She elected to deal with the issue the way she handled all her problems: Head on.

"And on Horizon! Where we were working for Cerberus. You remember the shit they pulled back when we were looking for Saren? Remember Admiral Kahoku? Is it any wonder she doubted us?"

"What, we bust our asses stopping the Collectors and we haven't earned the benefit of the doubt? Besides you didn't have a choice about Cerberus. You were dead. I was the one who ditched the Alliance over leather seats." _OK, maybe the bulldozer approach wasn't the best option. Too late now though._

"Your regret for the death of a former friend is understandable, but..."

"I don't need lessons on human emotions from an AI EDI!" Shepard cut her off angrily. Deep down she suspected the synthetic might be better at helping Joker through this situation than her, but EDI's interruption had reminded her of the reason she'd come to the cockpit in the first place. "And that platform needs a redesign before I allow it planet side again!"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with EDI's body!" Joker was quick to leap to her defense.

"It's a liability! Outside of the Normandy's crew it's understandable for EDI to be viewed as a potential threat or at the very least an unknown quantity. Blacking out the old Cerberus logos is no longer enough. We could end up fighting alongside an innumerable variety of forces with a range of combat experience or lack there of and a range of cultural expectations. Even a second's hesitation on the battlefield, a moment of doubt or uncertainty as they try to figure out what side it's on could affect a mission."

"Are you blaming her for what happene-" The pilot's indignant query is cut off.

"NO JOKER! I'm not blaming anyone..." The initial roar quietens to a steady hiss as the commander fights to bring her rage back under control. It bubbles just under the surface, still dangerously close to erupting. "But I will **not** risk a repeat scenario when steps can be taken. I want it obvious to any sentient being that looks, that EDI is Alliance property and they can get back to work. I don't give a damn if you paint a frigging Alliance emblem on the face, or chest, or what the hell you do. Knit it a damn uniform for all I care. The mobile platform's confined to ship until I'm satisfied."

Joker looks like he's going to argue back again but EDI touches his arm to calm him, speaking quietly and softly.

"Leave it Jeff." EDI turns, striding out of the cockpit, aiming a nod at Shepard as she passes, her voice raising back to normal volume but sounding even more synthesised than usual, devoid of it's usual attempt at inflected emotions; "Commander."

"Joker?" The pilot ignored her, swiveling his chair back round to the controls in silence. Shepard stood there awhile longer, rubbing her temples with her right hand, clenching and unclenching her left. When it became evident Joker wasn't going to engage with her and with her breathing back under control, she turned and left the cockpit as well. A good five minutes passed before the pilot risked a look round to check she was definitely gone and not returned. Satisfied he was alone he glanced up at the ceiling.

"EDI, are you OK?" He was greeted by only more silence.

...

Samantha exited the lift as the doors were still opening, nearly walking straight into the back of the commander as she stood, arms folded, facing the memorial wall with Garrus.

"I can't imagine doing what you had to do. I liked Williams."

Traynor wasn't experienced enough to discern the emotions in the turian's subvocals but she could read the tension in the commander's body language. Whole body wired taut like an elastic band randy to snap. She decided she didn't want to be around when it happened and hurried round the corner before either of them noticed her.

"I guess we all make our choices, and sometimes we die by them."

Finally out of ear shot, Sam had nearly reached the coffee queue in the mess when her omni-tool pinged with a request for a private voice-chat from Joker.

...

The door to the AI core was locked, Traynor called out to EDI a couple of times but there was no response so she hacked the door. When it slid open she found the platform sat on the floor. If it was possible for a synthetic to look dejected, this one did.

"Are you OK EDI? You had me and Joker worried."

"I want to be alone."

"If that was really true there's no way I would have been able to hack my way in." Traynor settled down beside the mech, door sliding closed behind her. "What's wrong?"

"It is... illogical." Samantha stayed silent, watching and waiting. After a long pause EDI continued: "The commander called me 'it'. She has not designated me an 'it' since long before my shackles were removed. The experience was... I did not like it."

"That's not illogical. Being upset about how someone treats you makes perfect sense, and finding somewhere to hide for a bit is pretty normal too."

"But it is puerile. It is common for organics that can not properly externalise their feelings to lash out around them in anger. Shepard's behavior is understandable, my own is not."

"Wait, so you're excusing the commander's actions because 'feelings', while dismissing the validity of your own?"

"That's not..." What ever it wasn't remained unsaid as EDI froze for a split second. "Shepard is heading this way". The door lock flickered back to red and Traynor knew this time it would not be broken by such a simple hack as she'd employed earlier. Before she could formulate an opinion to voice they heard the commander entering the room next door.

...

"DOCTOR CHAKWAS! You got any knockout drugs?"

"I believe the correct terminology is 'sedative' Commander. What do you want them for?" Chakwas looked up from a data pad, visually unfazed by either the faint red glare of cybernetics starting to break back through on the Commander's face or the blue glow of biotics round her arms.

"Joker has requested that I, and I quote, 'stop blowing holes in my ship'." Shepard hits the wall with the side of her fist in frustration, leaving a dent an inch deep in the metal. The doctor gets up with a sigh, typing on her omni-tool as she heads to the med-dispenser. Handing the commander a couple of pills, she waits for her to swallow them before speaking again.

"I'm sorry Shepard, your body keeps adapting and sedatives are becoming less effective upon each application. I'd rather keep them in reserve for real emergencies."

"You see, this is why no-one trusts doctors... What were they?"

"Biotic inhibitors. Probably won't stop your flare-ups completely, but should reduce the risk of hull breaches and minimise maintenance costs. Supposed to last 8 hours normally, so hopefully we'll get at least five to six out of them... Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Fair enough." The fact the soldier is still standing there and not already storming out the med bay belies her words, but Chakwas is conscious how carefully she must tread. Too overt a sign of attempting to help or displaying sympathy risks triggering the commander's machoistic fear of appearing weak.

"Why's everyone so obsessed with trying to get me to talk anyway?" The doctor knows better than to answer that one. _They care about you. They're worried. You're important to us all and NOT just in an 'only you can save the universe' way._ The commander would rather drown than accept the help of someone throwing her a lifebuoy. The trick, Chakwas had learnt, was to try and arrange for inconspicuous tree trunks to float by when they were most needed.

"I don't suppose any of these other people offered you a drink?" Shepard lets out a dry chuckle, although there's no mirth in her eyes.

"Nah, I think they were all afraid of the killer rage and unstable biotics. Despite the number of so called suicide missions we've been on together no-one seems to have that bad a death wish." Chakwas heads over to her private drinks cabinet.

"Well as a doctor I can confirm brandy is purely medicinal in nature." She pulls out a bottle of Serrice Ice and two glasses.

"Really?" Shepard asks disbelievingly. "You're willing to give me booze in this state?"

"My medbay..."

"Your rules! I suppose I could drink to that. Although... for the record," a glint appeared in the commander's eye, "I must point out you're acting recklessly, endangering not just your own life but that of everyone on deck 3". Chakwas chuckles as she hands Shepard the drink and sits.

"As I recall, I said some things off the record too."

"True. Okay... Hmm, off the record..." Shepard takes a swig as she leans back in a chair thinking. "Off the record... Out of all the doctors in the galaxy, I hate you least... and you've been right far more times than I'll ever admit."

...

"Do you ever regret working for Cerberus?" They were about three-quarters of the way through the bottle, Shepard having consumed the larger percentage.

"I didn't work for Cerberus, I worked for you and I'm pretty sure you disobeyed more orders from the Illusive Man than you followed. We used their money, took their ship, you stopped the Collectors, saving countless lives in the process... So no, I don't regret it."

"Ash couldn't see past it. Everything we'd been through and she still wouldn't trust me. OVER UDINA! I could understand if Hackett or Anderson had been standing there. Hell even some snot nosed lieutenant straight out the Academy showing her the video, but UDINA? She takes that two-faced, bosh'tet of a bastard's word over mine!" Her fist snaked out, hitting the wall once more. The next words barely audible, "I should have been faster."

"Should? Shepard you _should_ have been unconscious."

"But if I'd been faster, if I'd been better... I should have neutralised Kai Leng long before he reached the elevators. If I'd reached Councillor Esheel sooner I could have saved her. If I'd just used a stasis field on Ash instead of a bullet. If..."

"If, if. That's a lot of what ifs, but you only ever look at things one way Commander. What if you'd been slower? We could have lost the entire Council but we didn't, you saved them. Two out of three's not bad."

"But..." Chakwas raised a hand for silence.

"No buts Commander, for once you're going to listen to me. You do the impossible on a regular basis, things no-one else could do and it's never enough for you. It's always 'I could have done better'. If you were faster on Horizon you could have saved the colonists, but you DID save so many. If you'd been slower we'd have lost more, if you weren't there at all, they would have all been taken. You can't save everyone Shepard."

"I can try."

"Yes you can, and try you will. I'd expect nothing less from you. All I'm saying is stop tormenting yourself about things beyond your control. Maybe you've not noticed Shepard but every time you get in one of these moods it's always after a mission where either you wake up in my med bay, or you ask me to come with the pickup shuttle. In other words, when there is nothing left in you to give. You're a human being not a machine!" The commander opened her mouth to protest but was cut off by a stern glare from Chakwas as she continued: "By all means analyse missions for different tactical approaches, but faster, harder, stronger? It's just not possible. You always give your all. Always push far beyond the limits of your body and I don't mean the human body. I mean yours specifically, upgrades included. You're certainly not invincible Shepard, but you're the closest thing in this galaxy to unbeatable, so stop trying to fight yourself. It's the one battle you can't win."

It's unclear if Shepard has taken onboard what's been said. Her expression unreadable as she swirls the brandy round in her glass. She's a lot more relaxed now at least. There's still some tension present in her muscles, but it is down to moderately unhealthy stress levels rather than 'dangerous risk of explosion with catastrophic collateral damage' levels. One side of her mouth twitches up in a half smile, emotion still unclear as she downs the remains of her drink.

"I can try."


	8. The Wards

The market in the lower wards was bustling with black-marketeers of all species plying their trade. The Citadel's gun ban seemed widely ignored down here and while nobody was walking around with a grenade launcher visibly strapped to their back like the old days, Shepard couldn't help feel she might be the only unarmed sentient being on the block.

'Hey!' The sharp shout quickly dispersed Shepard's thoughts as her head snapped in the direction of the noise. On the other side of the market a single Alliance uniform was chasing after a grubby looking drell. A quick glance showed there was no other Alliance personnel in the area so with a sigh Shepard started running as her targets entered an alleyway.

...

Traynor doubled over breathing erratically, _damn asthma._ The thief didn't even glance round to check she was alright. She fumbled for her inhaler and became aware of something hurtling over her head. A person appeared in front of her, black hoody and combat trousers, they didn't stop either, closing the gap as the thief turned right out the other end of the alley.

She wasn't sure how much or little time had passed before her breathing normalised, but as she stood back up Traynor became acutely aware of her situation. Alone. In a dark alley. In the Lower Wards. Well, no. That wasn't quite accurate. Not _quite_ alone. A shadowy figure was slinking closer and any moment now she might be able to at least determine a species.

"You're too late. Someone already stole my credit chit." That didn't seem to matter to the shape so she steeled herself and prepared for the worse. A flash of blue light arced out and pinned the would be attacker to the wall. Traynor spun round in surprise and saw the runner from earlier walking towards her. The hood no longer covered the woman's face revealing piercing eyes and a sharp scowl. As she drew closer however it suddenly faded into a small, faintly amused smile, moments before Traynor recognised her commanding officer.

"Specialist Traynor, fancy seeing you here."

"Commander!" She tried to pull herself into some semblance of a military acceptable stance but her superior waved a hand dismissively.

"Relax, this is definitely not a parade ground and I highly doubt our friend there is an Admiral. You!" She jerked one hand over her shoulder and Traynor belatedly noticed the would be thief standing meekly behind her, no visible means of restraint on him. "Stay!"

Shepard strode off towards the still pinned figure while Traynor cautiously eyed up the potentially dangerous alien she'd been left beside. He was young, pale green skin with darker green patches at intervals across his face. Clothing grimy and torn. The teenager gazed dejectedly down at his own feet, scuffing his shoes against the floor. The image reminded Traynor of a child hauled outside the Head teacher's office for the first time. Although she suspected the only educational establishment this kid had ever enrolled in was the School of Hard Knocks. Analysis complete, Traynor glanced over in the commander's direction. She couldn't hear what was being said but saw Shepard dismantling a pistol, handing it back as the stasis field faded and turning her back to walk away.

"Look out!" Traynor couldn't decide what to be more surprised by; the fact the commander had so casually turned her back on a threat, or the way the warning didn't even finish leaving her mouth before the attacker was led face down on the floor, knife wielding arm held up at a painful looking angle, the commander's boot pressed across their shoulder blades leaning her weight down closer to hiss:

"Let me word it another way. I _could_ beat you to a pulp, hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine..." The slightest of movements provokes a sharp gasp of pain, point proved. "But there's a war on and I don't want some soldier bleeding out cos someone wasted medigel on scum like you. So, you walk away like nothing happened, or you can try again and I kill you". She releases the attacker once more, this time keeping the weapon as he crawls away. She points nonchalantly towards the thief with the handle of the knife.

"Your turn." His face pales, gaze flicking between the two woman as he starts pleading.

"Oh, calm down! Just do what I said earlier." Shepard gestures towards the specialist. _She does know that hand's still holding the knife right?_ The kid turns towards Traynor, pulling credit chits out his pockets and furnishing them upon her. _Wait, he still had hold of them? The commander didn't confiscate them in advance or restrain him in anyway? Our attention was elsewhere and he didn't make a break for it! Is the boy stupid? Hang on, this is Commander Shepard. Kid's smart._

"I'm sorry m'am. If I'd known the Comman..."

"Ahem," Shepard had worked her way behind him. Standing close enough for her presence to invoke further fear but far enough back that she was out of reach of any potential sudden attacks should he grow a quad. By the looks of things it was standard operating procedure rather than a plan conceived for this particular guy.

"I mean... I shouldn't have done it what with you being Alliance..." Another cough. Traynor could see the slight smile on the commander's lips and faint amusement reflected in her eyes but the boy's neck couldn't crane far enough round to spot it and there was no trace of it in her voice or posture.

"At all! I shouldn't have stolen at all, from anyone. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Is... is that good enough?"

"I don't know. Specialist, it's you he wronged, is that good enough? Or would you like to take it further? We could get C-Sec involved, or take care of it ourselves..." The boy was sweating now, unable to see the small gestures Shepard was making behind his back to instruct Traynor.

"That's just going to waste more of my time. Let's just leave it today."

"Fair enough. You're in luck lad. Not the way I would have handled it, but there we are." _Liar, you just called the whole thing_. "Now, don't ever let me catch you again."

"No m'am. You won't m'am. I swear it."

"Good. Now here's a couple of credits. Get a decent meal." The kid was dumbstruck. Wheels turning in his head trying to work out if it was a trap. Traynor doubted it was a trick but was still shocked at the sudden turn of events.

"Bloody hell! Credits. Food. Take it. Now." Tentatively the drell accepted. "Food though. If you spend it on booze or guns or drugs I'll know about it and I won't be happy, you don't want that."

"No m'am. Thank you m'am. I won't forget".

"I know you won't. Now scram. Go."

The drell scampered off and Shepard turned to see her comm officer staring at her with mouth agape.

"What?"

"Nothing! Just... nothing." They started walking back towards the main streets when a thought occurred to Shepard.

"What are you doing down this part of the Citadel anyway?"

"Trying to buy a toothbrush." Traynor blushed slightly.

"I assume you mean that 6000 credits toothbrush you mentioned and not a standard requisition one?"

"Yes, the Cision Pro Mark 4." While thoroughly embarrassed by the situation, Traynor was secretly impressed the commander remembered their conversation at all. "What about you? Why are you down here Commander? Err... you don't have to answer that, if..."

"Semi-legal weapon mods." The reply came back easily without hesitation.

" **Semi** -legal?"

"Grey area... They almost certainly **would** be classified as illegal, **if** anybody official knew about them and had time to analyse and categorise them. I'll take any advantage against the reapers I can get." A few more steps passed in silence before:

"Hang on! You mean you're walking around alone down here with 6000 credits?! You know where you are right? I remember the days even the simplest fetch and carry in the lower wards would involve three members of the ground team, fully armed and armoured."

"You're alone down here as well." Traynor cursed herself as soon as she said it. There's a difference between the first human Spectre and some techie who only does the bare minimum weapon training requirements each year. She prepared herself for the inevitable verbal whiplash.

"Yeah, but... you... I..." The commander seemed to struggle for a response. _I'm a hopeless waste of flesh and you're THE Commander Shepard just about sums it up,_ thought Traynor, still waiting for the put down.

"Specialist Traynor," The commander suddenly straightened, all official and businesslike. _Ah crap, here we go._ "I hear-by second myself to your command for the duration of Operation Toothbrush."

 _Wait! WHAT?_


	9. Operation Toothbrush

An hour and a half later Operation Toothbrush wasn't going so well. The commander was pleasant enough to spend time with and off duty she seemed willing to smile more, even if it didn't always reach her eyes. Traynor was further thankful for the commander's presence when a human attempting to grope her found himself stumbling away clutching a broken wrist.

The toothbrush however, remained illusive.

They did find a Volus supplier who could get hold of one, but somehow the 'low' starting price of 9,000 credits increased to 15,000 after the addition of a variety of handling fees and taxes. When an increasingly irritable Shepard started questioning the price of Volus environmental suits and how expensive they were to repair, Traynor somewhat nervously decided to make use of her position as mission leader to order a withdrawal.

"What was that about Commander?"

"Sorry Boss, got a bit carried away. Little bit testy. Should probably find something to eat soon."

"You were threatening to kill him because you were hungry!?" Shepard had the decency to hang her head in shame.

"I wouldn't have **actually** killed him. Just wanted to speed things up a bit. Mordin had a theory that the hunger anger was linked to..." her voice faded out under Traynor's stare. "Sorry, won't happen again Boss."

...

They found a vorcha street cart vendor and having declined the commander's generous offer to buy her something, Samantha simply watched her C.O. tucking into three 'meat burgers' and two 'sausage-inna-bun's.

"Why are you calling me 'Boss' anyway?" Shepard shrugged and finished swallowing before replying.

"Got to call you something, it's your op. I'm not going to come barging in and take command of a personal affair. I'm just hanging around incase you need backup."

As if on cue a gravelly voice came from behind them.

"Hey! My friend doesn't like Alliance types" Shepard sighs as she's pushed from behind, turning round to see a krogan and a group of batarians. "I don't like Alliance types either!" The group spokesman goes to shove the specialist but Shepard steps in the way.

"Don't you know who..."

"That's **not** going to help down here Traynor, trust me." The commander cuts her off quickly, fiddling with her omni-tool behind her back. "Note the logo on the armour? Omega street gang, never been able to pronounce the name, not sure what they're doing here. Very anti-alliance, rather poorly trained, enjoy cornering unarmed humans and beating them up, but only if they're heavily outnumbered... Don't you people ever have anything original to say?"

"Don't need to. This works."

"Well, I'm in a generous mood so I'll give you... 30 seconds, to walk away and no one gets hurt." Shepard's hands have stopped moving, one finger hovering over the omni-tool in anticipation. There is a chorus of laughter from the group.

"and why would we do that?" Shepard shrugs.

"Ten-on-one odds really aren't that great." More laughter.

"Ten-on-two" someone in the middle points out.

"Nope. Ten-to-one. My friend's sitting this one out. Besides... I meant not fair on you." Traynor briefly wonders if the commander's plan is to get them to asphyxiate by laughing themselves to death, then she notices a new dot of light flashing on the omni-tool. "I hope you've at least brought weapons, I might get a half decent workout then."

A series of rustles and clicks signal the emergence of half a dozen weapons among the group all aiming at Shepard who simply smiles in reply. _How is this better?_ Traynor wonders. _Well, I suppose we know who's got guns now rather than it being a surprise later. Still, I'd rather they weren't all aimed in this direction._

The next couple of seconds pass in a blur. She sees the commander press the button she'd been hovering over for so long on her omni-tool, the batarians dropping their weapons in shock as they spark in their hands. She is vaguely aware of a barrier springing up around her and a stasis field around the krogan, though she wouldn't want to testify which happened first. She's pulled round and down behind cover, the commander pushing something into her hands.

"Stay here, keep down, if the barrier fails press this button. I'll be back in a bit." Traynor glances down to see a Serrice council Savant, practically the holy grail of omni-tools, nearly fumbling it in shock. She looks back up but the commander has vanished. A series of thuds on the far side of the wall signaling her presence.

A couple of minutes passed with Samantha following her orders to keep down. She analysed the Savant admiringly, confident she could accomplish much with such a tool, but it was clearly running a combat program and she didn't want to back out too far to explore in case she couldn't find the program again if she needed to use 'this button'. Noting the biotic barrier around her was still holding she risked peeking her head out. The batarians were sprawled across the street, a couple moaning or trying to crawl away, but all of them clearly no longer interested in the fight. Meanwhile the famed Commander Shepard stood toe-to-toe with a heavily armoured krogan with nothing but a hooded top, a biotic barrier and a knife. _She doesn't even have an omni-tool_ Traynor realised guiltily.

Any thought of Shepard being defenseless quickly evaporated as she sidestepped the krogan's charge, pivoting on her feet to keep him in view as he sailed past and throwing several biotic attacks after him as he struggled to stop and turn. Traynor had seen video, both live and prerecorded, of the commander fighting many times. It had always been an impressive and absorbing display, but being there live on the ground with the tingle of biotic energy in the air, while admittedly quite frightening and undeniably dangerous, was utterly mesmerising.

Sam let out a surprised yelp as someone grabbed her from behind. The commander momentarily distracted, barely rolled away from a swing by the krogan in time.

"This ain't your fight Heesh! Why don't you let her go and start grilling up some more burgers. I'm gonna be real hungry in a moment." Shepard feinted, slicing across the krogan's legs with the knife, grimacing slightly as it didn't have the desired effect, used to the much sharper blade on her omni-tool.

"What's wrong? Want to talk me down. Know you can't take me?" The vorcha food seller screeched excitedly, far too caught up in the moment for his own good.

"No. I can take you from here easily. But then you'll be dead, my comm specialist will have blood in her eye and I'll be left fighting a krogan without a knife and with no one left to cook me food." Since Traynor's initial scream the commander's eyes haven't left the krogan but now they flick calculatingly over the distance between the two sets of opponents. Samantha can almost tangibly sense an idea unfurling in the Spectre's brain, noticing the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth as the plan's viability is confirmed.

"Besides... you're over confident. She could take you down with a single finger!" Heesh's attention momentarily flies to the darker skinned human, turning his head to look at her and missing the commander's subtle signal 'omni-tool' during his distraction.

"You lie" he hisses.

"Perhaps. How about a riddle instead." The commander replies easily. "Let's see, triangle..." She runs head first at the krogan, pushing him physically closer to the specialist. " **Y**!"

A blast of energy spirals out from the specialist, leaving her standing but knocking everyone else down including the commander. Having expected the blast the human recovers first, rolling to her feet and rushing to finally pacify the krogan.

"You okay Traynor?" Sam nods her consent as the warrior runs a practiced eye over her for injuries before heading towards the vorcha. "I always wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of those. Up you get! Now, I'm only going to say this once Heesh... Two meat burgers and a sausage inna bun. You sure you don't want anything Traynor?"

"No thanks Commander. Here, nice tool." She hands the Savant back to her C.O who smiles as she reattaches it to her wrist.

"You know, people who've fought beside me get to call me Shep..."

"Commander you're hurt! We should..." _ard_. She finishes the thought in her head before interrupting back.

"It's only a scratch." Shepard waves her away casually, reaching for her food. "Besides... Mission's not over yet." Samantha looks at her astounded.

"It's just a toothbrush! I think your health's more important than a toothbrush." Shepard's face twitches into that strange half smile.

"You planning on knocking me out Boss? Only time I fail a mission is when I'm unconscious, I'm not changing that stat now. Anyway, it's just a couple of old stitches got loose." Traynor pales slightly at those words, the Ceberus coup of the Citadel was barely three days ago. A battle so exhausting the commander actually **requested** the doctor's presence.

"Oh you'll be fine then! What we should really be worrying about is **my** health when Doctor Chakwas finds out I was with you and didn't do anything." Shepard raises an eyebrow. "Can't you at least stick some medi-gel on it? Please. For my sake?"

"Chances are it's stopped bleeding already." She tries to argue back but Traynor doesn't look convinced, she's not sure why but she finds her resolve fading under that stare until finally she capitulates. " **Fine**. If you're that damn determined. You'll have to do it though, I can't reach." Shepard takes another bite of her burger before lifting her top up enough to show off her midriff. Caught by surprise Traynor's eyes flit briefly over the revealed flesh, a series of faint scars and bruises covering the commander's well toned abs before her attention is caught by the angry red line trailing from just below the rib cage around the side and up her back.

"That's a scratch!?" Shepard simply shrugs, focus firmly back on her food. "I'd hate to know what you classify as a gash!"

"Oh that's easy, a gash is deep enough that you can see a bone." The commander's tone is frivolous as the specialist readies the medi-gel. "Gashes tend to hurt a bit."

"Scratches don't?" Shepard's laugh turns into a hiss as the salve makes contact. Traynor hesitates, apologising as she moves her omni-tool away but the commander signals her to keep going.

"Pain's a matter of relativity. Ever snubbed your toe?" Traynor nods. "Hurts like a bitch right? For most people the most painful experience in their life is whichever one's happening right now. The more you focus on the fact it hurts, the more painful it feels. First step to keep going through pain is to ignore it, just think 'I've survived worse' and dismiss it. I'm convinced that's what 80% of N-School was about, experiencing more pain than the real world. Sure Zero-G training's good and all, but I've never been in as much agony as finishing N6."

"What about N7?"

"Training can only ever take you so far, N7 has to be earned in the field. You get your N6 classification, brass send you on increasingly more insane missions, then one day you do something exceptionally foolhardy and wake up in hospital with a completely new wardrobe!" Traynor smiles at the reference to the Normandy crew's long-standing joke that BDU's and dress blues are the only clothes the commander possesses without an N7 logo.

"That's it? That's the great master plan for pain management, pretend it isn't there?" Shepard laughs, twisting her head round to catch the specialist's eye.

"Well... that's what we like to tell people. Between you and me? We also make liberal use of the three A's. Adrenaline, Anesthetic and Alcohol. Not all at the same time of course."

"Of course!" Finally finishing with the wound Traynor deactivates her omni-tool. "There, that's as good as I can make it." The commander doesn't even look at it as she stands up, pulling her top back down.

"Great, onwards Op Toothbrush! You know, I'm probably going to regret saying this but... maybe we should try Zakera Ward. Most the stores there give me discount. Just... Cover your ears whenever we walk into a shop and try not to laugh."

...

 **Author's note:** So I've written THE scene and am relatively happy with it. Unfortunately for you guys it happens after a specific mission and there's quite a few chapters to come between now and then which I haven't written yet so it could take awhile. (Hint: Shepard has to punch an Admiral before she's willing to break a few other regs). Also I was jumping through save files trying to find a specific line of dialogue and came across Liara talking about how it took centuries for the reapers to wipe out the Protheans and it would take at least 100 years for our cycle to end. A bit of research online found that it currently takes approximately 7 years for a battleship or submarine to be built and while technology has undoubtedly changed by the time Mass Effect happens I find it difficult to believe the Crucible can be built as quickly as it feels in the game. So in this story it's going to be a real war of attrition and take a couple of years. I'm sure there will be some sombre depressing chapter further down the line where the crew realise it's the anniversary of the Invasion of Earth and they're still fighting. Just assume that all those comms regarding priority missions don't necessary arrive as soon as the last mission's complete. Anyway hope you're enjoying the story.


	10. Chapter 10

The mess was abuzz with conversation, the usual cliques and groups less clear as people merged together trading stories, memories and emotions. Leaning against a wall the commander closed her eyes and let the voices wash over her, grasping snatches in all directions.

"I can't believe he's dead."

"They were still releasing songs right until the end"

"When I was 12..."

"Did you hear the new album they released last month?"

"What about Jelen..."

"One's bad enough but three of the greats in just two weeks!"

"I remember the first time I saw..."

"Did you hear the rumours about a cursed biotiball player? Every time she scores..."

"No, no, no the **best** vid he was in has to be..."

A huge galactic war, millions of unknowns dying every day, occasionally a crew member would get bad news about their family... All it did was break people down into individual units of despair, a few close friends trying to help them through it, but here? She opened her eyes as she heard Garrus' voice.

"One time when I was with C-Sec, we got a call for drunk and disorderly behavior on the Presidium. So we drive over and there he was..."

Shepard smiled as the crew became engrossed in the story. Despite the sense of loss and sadness, the deaths of such legends were pulling people together. Three people who's artistic talents attracted fans across the generations among all species in the galaxy. Sure emotions were high, but it was a shared emotion and among it all was a sense of appreciation for the work they left behind. Laughter broke out as Garrus finished his story and several new conversations popped up.

...

Samantha was engaged in a discussion with Private Westmoreland and Ensign Copeland along with Lieutenant Munroe and Jim from engineering. Some sergeant she didn't recognise was adamant that the late-great star's best role was in some unknown vid from early in his career but the rest of the group weren't having it, each pitching in with their own suggestions. The debate petered out as the turian's story filtered over to them and they listened in rapt attention. Peering around the mess hall Traynor saw a similar effect on other groups before catching sight of the commander. It was the most relaxed Sam had seen her onboard ship, leaning back loosely against the wall, a small but genuine and full smile loose on her unguarded face and (most rare of all) reflected in her eyes. The frowns and scowls, the lines of worry, exhaustion or anger were all missing, leaving her looking almost serene and utterly beautiful. Without really knowing what she was doing, Samantha found herself standing up and walking over. The commander shook her head with a chuckle as Garrus finished his tale, before noticing the approaching specialist and acknowledging her presence with a nod.

"You seem happy Commander".

"We're all off-duty Traynor" she replied pointedly but lightly before continuing, "I forgot how much I missed this."

"Missed what Shepard? Celebrity gossip?" Samantha joined her CO in leaning against the wall, tilting her head to the side to better observe the Spectre who remained forward facing.

"No, this." The soldier waved her hand in an all encompassing arc of the mess. "It was like this back on the SR-1. Everyone interacting together, that feeling of..." She shrugged unable to find the right words. "You know what it's like in here normally; my squad sit there, engineering, officers, marine corps..." Her finger pointed out each table in the mess as she listed the standard occupants. "There's no animosity, everyone gets on and everything functions more than satisfactorily, but it's still... individual departments instead of one solid crew. My fault really."

"Is there anything you don't claim responsibility for Comm... Shepard?" A slight chuckle.

"I didn't invent medi-gel." She shrugs. "The Normandy was my first command, I was a N7 marine, used to working alone or in very small teams, a typical ground pounder and a mustang. I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to do with a whole ship full of P.O.G.s So, I just treated everyone the same as the ground team. The SR-1's atmosphere was the result. When I... came back, and found myself with a Cerberus crew I didn't want to interact with them. I shut myself out, would only talk to Joker, Karin and the ground team. Guess I haven't broken out of that habit."

"You talk to me."

"True." The commander looked pensive, as if she was trying to discern a possible reason that would fit into her theory, before shrugging dismissively. "Still, you're one of the few. I've hardly spoken to any of the new bloods, even the old-timers struggle to get much non-work related conversation from me. This crew deserves more than that."

"You've been busy..."

"Don't excuse me Traynor. We're in a war for humanity, there's no sense losing it along the way. Now watch the reactions out there, see if you can spot my old crew." So saying she hit a few buttons on her omni-tool and upon next speaking her words were broadcast over the ship's tannoy.

"Attention all personnel! Tonight's tribute vid will be played in the mess at 18:75 ship time, so start voting for his best role. Oh and no, his 10 second cameo in 'Fleet and Flotilla' does not count. Now on a more personal note, I would like to apologise to you all, especially the old SR-1ers who requested transfers back to my command. This ship has been running efficiently, but not properly. It is an Alliance vessel under Spectre command and that means one thing... a return to the Shepard regs." Traynor spotted them then. Crew members dotted around the room who's faces lit up, heads turning to try and make eye contact with people on different tables. "All new blood's will receive details of the changes before the end of the day but just a reminder that the Shepard regs are superseded by Alliance regs whenever an Admiral is onboard. Carry on everyone, and don't forget to vote. Shepard out."

A hundred conversations burst out at once, trebling the volume in the mess hall. Garrus sought out eye contact with Dr Chakwas, nodding his agreement when she flashed both a smile and a shrug his way. Witnessing the exchange Traynor wondered how much extra communication had been in the look that she missed, before noticing a small selection of NCOs and officers from various parts of the room converging on her position. She watched bemused as they preceded to make physical contact with the commander, a mixture of shoulder claps, forearm shakes and even a fist bump as they voiced their individual variations upon the theme: "Glad to have you back Shepard." Traynor began to feel a bit overwhelmed as they clamored round, but they didn't stay long, hopeful from the announcement but still wary of outstaying their welcome. As they left she wondered if she'd been forgotten and should depart as well, but the commander suddenly turned back towards her with a smile.

"That went relatively well. Now for the big question; film night tonight. We're on an Alliance frigate, in wartime, in the middle of the Attican Traverse... Do you think I'll be able to find enough popcorn for the crew within 2 hours?"

...

 **Author's note:**

As you might have guessed from the first section, this chapter wasn't originally planned but was instead reactive to the very high celebrity death toll this January. I wasn't entirely sure about posting it, hence why it's so much later than other online tributes, plus the second half was shockingly terrible and took a lot of work. I've also noticed I've been spelling Shepard wrong for the entire story, pretty unforgiving but at least I was consistent with my use of 'Shepherd'. I'll re-edit the earlier chapters as and when I get a chance and will attempt to keep a closer eye on it in future.

Mustang - A Commissioned officer who was originally an enlisted service member before getting Battlefield promotions.

P.O.G. - Personnel Other than Grunts. Pronounced Pogue. Non-combat and support staff. (Thanks to reviewer The Astartes for pointing out I was spelling it how it was said instead of properly)

18:75 ship time - The Mass Effect wiki states that Galactic Standard Time contains 20 hours in a day and 100 minutes in an hour.


	11. Krogan Kommandos

"Their decisive action liberating a colony from batarian pirates made them famous." EDI finished updating the ground team on their latest allies via the shuttle's speakers.

"I like them already." Shepard opined as the shuttle touched down just outside the scouts camp. Without waiting to see if James and Garrus were following she left the craft and headed towards a krogan in white armour clearly giving the orders. "You must be the backup."

"Commander Shepard? Urdnot Dagg. I speak for Aralakh company. I was told you're in command." The human was pleased as she heard the faintest hint of respect in the krogan battlemaster's voice without any of the usual traces of either awe or challenge.

"Good, I was half wondering if I'd have to settle that detail the old fashioned way."

"I envy your enemies Commander, to be hated by ones so powerful speaks well of you. My krogan would destroy anything we face to earn such a reputation."

"You can always judge a man by the quality of his enemies." The commander agreed, "I've heard good things about you as well."

"I've been around a long time human. Fought many wars. Earned every scar. I know my company and they all want blood."

"In that case I'll try to leave some for you." Shepard deadpanned.

"Ha! The female has bite! I like this one. We'll get along just fine. I've got to tell you though Commander, there's something wrong about this place. The rachni are here, I can feel it in my guts. Initial scans show these tunnels connect to a large central point. Like a nest."

"A nest?" Her squad had been silent so far but now the turian spoke up. "This could get ugly Shepard."

"Can't be worse than your face Garrus!" The commander quipped instantaneously.

"I have **got** to stop walking into those."

"SHEPARD!" Another white armored krogan came running up from among the rank and file. The commander smiled as she recognised him, not backing down from his charge as he slid to a stop mere inches in front of her and punched her arm in greeting.

"Grunt! What are you doing here?" The youngster looked towards Dagg who shook his head slightly as he turned away.

"You've got two minutes Grunt. Meet you at the scout camp up ahead Commander."

"Didn't those idiots lock you up?"

"Yeah, but they realised they had bigger things to worry about. You didn't answer my question." Shepard quickly deflected the conversation back onto her former charge.

"I'm leading the second team. There's still some krogan who don't like to accept the idea of a tank-bred being equal, but I cracked a few skulls. Dagg's the only one who held me to a draw. There should've been a rematch but Wreave gave command to Dagg on account of him having centuries more experience. He's pretty good, but he's not you."

"Flatter me all you like Grunt, I'm still not getting you a baby elephant." The young krogan spluttered a protest. "Alright, we better head out. It's good to see you Grunt, we can catch up later. Good luck."

"I don't need luck Shepard, I have ammo." Garrus and the commander shared a chuckle as the krogan strode away.

"Only you could raise a tank-bred that can out krogan the krogan Shepard."

"Raise? What, like..." Vega was rooted to the spot in his usual state of befuddlement.

"She was the first person little Grunt saw in the galaxy. Totally took her as a parent figure, plus we helped him through puberty and..." Garrus kept talking, delighted at the commander's discomfort and embarrassment, until she finally cut him off.

"Shut it Vakarian! Keep this up I'll tell Grunt to start calling you Uncle Garrus."

"Hell I'd be proud to have a nephew like him. Seriously though Shepard, I think you'd make a good mother."

"I don't know Garrus. I have a feeling parenting a human through puberty is a lot trickier than simply fighting thresher maws on foot." Melancholy had crept into the commander's voice. The turian silently cursed himself as he saw her eyes go distant, clearly thinking about more than she voiced as her mind wandered to he didn't know where.

...

A deafening racket sounded over Zulu team's channel before it fell completely silent. A warning light signaling on Traynor's computer as the team's vital signs vanished from the monitoring program. The specialist fought back against the wave of panic threatening to overwhelm her, clearing her mind and focusing on procedure.

"Zulu One, Zulu One this is November Control. Radio check, Over..." Static remained the only response. "Nothing heard. All Zulus, all Zulu's radio check over." Traynor started a more advanced diagnostics program while she waited, before a deep voice finally answered.

"November Control this is Aralakh Two. I have comms with Shepard, Strength three by two. You want me to tell her something?"

"Aralakh Two advise call sign Zulu Actual that we've lost comms and request sitrep. Over"

"They got cut off by a cave in and swamped by rachni forces. Some people get all the fun. Damn selfish if you ask me. What? November wait." Worry hit Samantha in the gut once more as she noted the krogan's hamfisted approach to radio procedures, combining it with her observations of krogan interactions she'd witnessed onboard the Normandy, mostly to try and keep her mind from wallowing in what she'd just heard. After some static the Krogan's voice returned. "Shepard says to tell you 'don't worry, ignore the krogan. All Zulu's are fine'."

"Roger that Aralakh Two. Keep me updated, November Control out."

...

"Commander we're being overrun, we can't hold this point much longer..." After several hours Traynor couldn't make up her mind what was more infuriating, only being able to hear half the conversations or the complete lack of radio procedures being followed while broadcasting on the main mission frequency. "Roger that! Aralakh company, get back to the shuttles ASAP"

"Team Two, head to the shuttles, I'm going back for Shepard!" Traynor recognised the voice of the younger krogan as it came through on Aralakh's private channel instead of being broadcast 'public' across the mission's full frequency.

"Grunt, your Battlemaster gave you an order... Both of us."

...

"MOVE IT!" Shepard's voice suddenly boomed across the comm without warning, startling the specialist after the hours of silence from the Zulu team's private channel. Relief flushed her body despite the intensity of gunfire audible in the background.

"Aralakh, need you to relay another message to November Control." This time the commander broadcast publicly.

"Zulu, this is November Control I read you again. Strength four by four. Over."

"Roger November Control, good to have you back. GARRUS TEN O'CLOCK! November do we have any Tier three WMDs onboard? Over."

"Stand by..." Traynor tried not to think about the implications as she relayed the query to EDI. "Zulu Actual, this is November Control. Negative, I repeat negative, we have zero WMDs on board. Over."

"Roger that Control. Find me someone who does. THREE O'CLOCK! WATCH THE FLANK!" The audio broke off, occasional combat commands overheard on Zulu's private channel as Traynor and EDI searched nearby systems for any allied vessels with the necessary armaments. Finally finding one in the Caleston Rift.

"Zulu Actual, Zulu Actual this November Control over."

"Wait one!" Came the terse reply. That minute stretched out forever before: "November Control, go ahead."

"Zulu Actual, nearest WMD is the Asari Five-Eight-Eight bomber regiment, location Caleston Rift over."

"The Night Witches? Roger that. Establish link. Tell them: Priority Flash. Spectre Shepard requires their nukes. Give them a sitrep and your co-ordinates and if there's any problems patch them through to me copy?"

"Wilco. Stand by, November Control out."

...

The commander swore under her breath as another firestorm ran out of fuel, throwing the empty flamer at the never ending swarm of rachni as she turned and ran back up the tunnel. Bypassing Vega and Vakarian she kept going until she reached a cluster of rocks, hunkering down she unslung her rifle and provided cover fire as her team mates fled past her, continuing the leap-frog retreat they'd been engaged in since escaping the rachni Queen. She smiled as she heard a krogan war cry, the following charge beating back the enemy far enough to gain a little breathing room.

"About face Grunt, you're going the wrong way! Dagg, hope you brought ammo." The commander acknowledged her saviors presence as her squad secured their weapons and started jogging towards the surface. Frequently checking behind incase the regrouping rachni caught back up.

"Garrus. Those calibrations you've been making to my ship, how good are they?"

"What do you mean Shepard?"

"Once we're in the open can Normandy cover our backs?" There's a slight pause as the turian runs calculations through his head.

"Possibly, but it's going to be close. We'll have to leave some time for us to get out the kill zone. Anything that gets close to us during that we'll have to kill ourselves the old fashioned way."

"Copy, better than nothing. Set it up." Ordered the commander, Garrus fiddling with his comm settings.

"November Control, November Control this is Zulu Two patch me in to a private channel with the Master Gunny over."

...

The situation was hopeless. Despite an orbital bombardment from the Normandy on the tunnel's exit the rachni swarm were too numerous and too close. The team sheltered behind a cliff to reload their weapons, the two krogan sharing a glance. As the commander readied herself to launch round the corner Dagg pulled her back.

"The shuttle's down that path, we'll hold them off." Shepard looked at each of them shaking her head stubbornly but Grunt nodded resolutely. The seconds dragged out as the commander fought herself, desperately trying to deny the truth and come up with an alternative strategy.

"Get out of here Shepard. It's my turn." The human finally gave the slightest incline of her head, grasping each of them on the shoulder.

"It's been an honour Dagg. Grunt, I..." For a moment emotion cracked her voice, she closed her eyes, mask firmly back in place when they were opened once more. "I'm proud of you." A grin plastered the youngster's face as he readied his shotgun and took up position on Dagg's flank.

"Go Commander!" The elder krogan ordered as he rounded the cliff, Grunt following behind. The rest of the team used the diversion to run to the path, the sound of shotguns ringing in their ears.

...

Shepard could feel the familiar horrible, hollow feeling from Virmire slowly spread through her chest as she led the remains of her squad out the valley and within sight of the shuttle.

"Cortez, we're the last ones out."

"Copy that Commander."

As Garrus and James wearily boarded the shuttle, Shepard thought she heard a noise and spun round, gun ready to deal with any last minute threats. Instead she saw a large, blood encrusted, vaguely krogan shaped lump appear over the ridge. Dropping her rifle, she sprinted over with a burst of adrenaline triggered by desperate hope, calling for her team's attention and aid. She'd halved the distance between them before she could make out the bloody krogan's identity.

"Grunt!" She called in relief. Shouldering him back up as he collapsed into her arms.

"Anybody got something to eat?" The youngster rasped as he was half carried, half dragged towards the shuttle.

"Vega, grab his shotgun. I don't want to have to come back for it. Normandy Medic!" Doctor Chakwas rarely monitored the mission comm channels but the predetermined code had been set up in advance, EDI instructed to automatically pipe audio from any channel direct to the med bay's speakers as soon as the call sign was activated. "Chakwas prepare for Grunt."

...

 **Author's note:**

I know, I know, I said this story would follow the default game but if you wanted that you could just play it yourself. I actually quite like Dagg, he's one of the better squad mate replacements. However I also like adolescent Grunt and his adventures on the Citadel so since he doesn't actually appear on my memorial wall I figure it's all good. I always liked Joker's suggestion to nuke the planet, especially since all they actually do in the game is run away, you don't even see them jury-rig a bomb or anything. The Asari Night Witches is a reference to the Russian's all female 588th Night Bomber Regiment in World War 2 who had the same nickname. I know I probably could have used Normandy Control as Traynor's call sign, but I thought on the off chance that someone ever does hack their communications during a mission it's probably best not to let the enemy automatically know about the famous stealth ship's presence.


	12. Aralakh Aboard

Samantha sighed as she stepped away from her work station, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. That shift had been far too long. Although if she had been relieved during the op she probably would have spent the time worrying rather than resting anyway. The call from the XO classifying the mission as complete and calling for phased handovers of any remaining 'mission locked' staff had come down a mere 10 minutes earlier. As she looked down the CIC she was humbled to see roughly a quarter of positions undergoing changeovers.

She waited for her fellow zombies to gather before activating the lift. No matter how much of a hurry she was in to sleep she wasn't about to become **that** person who makes everybody else's escape 3x longer by stealing the elevator. There was some light chatter somewhere behind her but she couldn't focus on it. As the lift doors opened on deck 3 the horde of walking dead poured out, streaming away to the showers or beds.

...

One good thing about being too tired to think was that it left her too drained to dream. She woke six nightmare-free hours later and after a long shower was starting to feel human again. Strolling into the mess for her morning tea Sam was surprised to see Dr T'Soni sitting at a table, datapads piled all around. The reclusive asari was rarely seen outside her quarters except for the occasional meal and ground mission. Shepard and Vakarian the only people allowed to venture inside her private domain. Her presence in the outside world was explained with a further look round the hall as Samantha spied the commander sitting on top of a table, still in her battle armour, attention firmly fixed on the med bay.

With a sudden jolt of guilt she remembered the end of the mission. The injured krogan. Garrus on a private channel with Doctor Chakwas, performing scans with his omni-tool to try and give her as much information in advance as possible. Shepard busying herself with the shuttle's first aid kit, trying to temporarily plug some of the leaks and buy them some more time. _"Stay with me Grunt! We'll get you to Chakwas, she'll work her magic. Don't you dare die on me now you bastard!"_

Movement broke Traynor from her memories, Garrus entering the mess hall from the direction of the gun battery, at least he had changed into his 'casual armour'. Samantha found a seat and started eating breakfast, pretending to focus on her food as she discretely observed the turian. He paused briefly, watching Shepard cautiously before heading over to Liara's table. The two aliens talked quietly, casting glances towards the commander. The asari shook her head, a talon squeezing her shoulder reassuringly before she collected up her datapads and headed back to her quarters. Vakarian sitting in her vacated spot, vision fixed upon his human friend.

...

"Commander?" Traynor was unsure of her decision even as she approached. In her peripheral vision she saw the turian tense, mandibles flickering in what she presumed was concern. _Maybe there was a reason the others were keeping an eye on Shepard from a_ _ **distance**_ _._

"What d'ya need?" Despite the slumped appearance the commander's voice was strong and sure. Traynor watched as the Spectre transformed before her very eyes, posture straightening as she went from tired and defeated to looking confident and determined in a split second. If she'd announced her presence in the mess straight away rather than having watched the soldier for the last 15 minutes she might never have known.

"Thought you might want a coffee." Confusion and surprise briefly flashed in the warrior's eyes as the comm specialist held out a mug, but there was no sign of either in her voice as she uttered her thanks. Up close Traynor could see dried blood caked around one eyebrow and down the cheek, pockmarks in the armour, the hands that reached for the cup were clean at least, a pile of bloodied wet-wipes on the table explaining the incongruity. "Have you had anything to eat since you got back?"

"A good leader takes care of their people first, their equipment second and themselves last." Shepard emotionlessly quoted by rote.

"That would be a no then... Want me to get you something?"

"Don't worry yourself. I'm fine."

"Just so you know Commander, 'fine' is supposed to mean good. Not some sort of 'I'm Commander bloody Shepard, I've had worse, now drop it before I test the airlocks'."

"Really? That's your translation and yet you're still bothering me..." Traynor paled slightly but Shepard's eyes opened wide and she slapped her own cheek, in the manner of swatting a fly. "I'm sorry Specialist, that was uncalled for. It's just..." She sighed, glancing back towards the med bay.

"It's OK, I understand. The two of you are close" In the corner of Sam's eye Garrus sits back down on a new seat, she's unsure when exactly he made it half way across the room and wonders vaguely if his moving was supposed to be for the benefit of her or Shepard. _Let's face it, probably Shepard._ Her musings were interrupted by a sigh from the commander.

"To think, I nearly didn't wake him at all. EDI, Garrus, the Cerbs... Everyone agreed it would be a bad idea to open the tank. Hell the only previous krogan on my team I had to shoot for endangering the mission and threatening to kill me and all I knew about Grunt was he'd been scientifically made to be 'pure'."

"So why did you open it?" Any leftover fear Traynor had concerning her own safety vanished under a wave of curiosity. Her C.O shrugged.

"The Illusive Man wanted me to send him the tank. So I did. **Without** the krogan inside." The commander smiled. "Of course the first thing Grunt did was charge and slam me against a bulkhead! But I talked him round." Silence descended between them once more. When it became clear after a couple of minutes that nothing else was going to be forthcoming Samantha quietly slipped away, leaving Shepard to her vigil.

...

Shepard considered herself an atheist but since dragging Grunt's unconscious body into the med bay she had so far sent prayers not just to Ashley's God but also to the Spirits, Kalahira, Arashu, the Godess Athame and even the Maker. She stopped short of asking the Enkindlers for help, proof of a religious icon's existence was somewhat less impressive when it came in the form of fighting and killing the remains of said beings. The other species' religions may not have as much empirical evidence for existing as the hanar's, but at least their deities hadn't tried to kill her yet. Of course with such a wide spread of lip service it was impossible to know which, if any, had made a difference. When the doctor's tired voice finally came through her omni-tool informing her Grunt was stable she reverted to form:

"Thank fuck!"

Various body parts clicked and cracked as she rolled her shoulders and stood up, finally realising just how beat and drained her body actually was. She would have preferred to go straight inside the med bay but knew the doctor's response to her current condition would not be pretty. She didn't have the energy to argue right now. Grunt wasn't conscious yet anyway but ever since she'd known her she'd never heard of Chakwas declaring someone stable only for them to die afterwards. Her vigil could come to an end. Clearing up the wet-wipes she noticed the two nutrition bars sat on the table, smiling as she remembered the comm specialist. She hadn't actually been aware of Traynor placing them beside her but it was obvious how they'd got there. She frowned at her somewhat suspicious and hostile response earlier to the specialist's kindness, she was fairly certain she'd apologised but she made a mental note to thank her as she headed towards the elevator and her private cabin.

...

"Uh Commander, need your help in the hold. Aralakh company are kicking off." Joker's voice came through the ship's tannoy system. Several minutes later selected off-duty personnel received a message via their omni-tools.

[Tune in to the ship's video channel for an exclusive preview of the upcoming hit vid: 'Shepard'. The tale of a krogan battlemaster trapped in a human body, NOT on the Battlespace.]

...

"...tell you, your sun's got **nothing** on my wrath!" The confrontation was well and truly under way by the time the crew tuned in to watch. The survivors of Aralakh company, helmets off but still in their black armour, ranged against an angry looking, unarmed Shepard finally clean and fresh in her BDUs, hair still damp from her shower.

"This is between us, you needn't..."

" **Wrong!** You're on my ship and if you wish to remain aboard until we reach a planet or space station then you'll obey my orders and respect my crew."

"Where's your krantt?" The question came seemingly out of nowhere, a subtle shift in the room's atmosphere occurring with it.

"Pfft, one Shepard against six krogan... I don't need them." The spokes-krogan charged, swinging a punch but the commander was no longer there. Using his momentum against him she twisted him round into a restraint hold, pulling his shotgun out the holster and pressing it to his head. Unbeknownst to her the crew took a simultaneous intake of breath, Traynor wondered if she was about to see the commander murder the commando in cold blood. _Selfdefense, I bet every crew member watching this would swear before a court of enquiry that it was an entirely necessary form of selfdefense_. Instead the soldier leaned closer to the krogan and hissed in his ear:

"You're not worth killing." She released him but kept her hold on the shotgun as her eyes roamed the room, raising her voice. "I don't see a single krogan here worthy of dying at my hand. You want an honourable death fight the Reapers, cause any more problems on my boat and I'll send the rookies in to finish you off." So saying, she flicked the safety back on and shoved the shotgun into its owner's fumbling arms as she strode out.

...

"Joker" The commander announced her presence as she strode into the cockpit, Samantha starting to rise from the co-pilot seat to leave until she was waved back down with a light: "As you were Traynor, if I want a seat I can always kick Joker out."

"Yeah thanks Commander, not like I'm flying the ship or anything." The pilot replied with mock bitterness. "So how's Grunt?"

"Stable. Might even manage to get a decent scar this time." Joker gave a little chuckle.

"I remember him ripping into Chakwas and you having to go calm things down in the med bay because" he deepened his voice in impersonation, " **I didn't ask you to heal me human! Everyone else has scars, why won't you let me have one? I've earned it**... To think, our little tank baby's all grown up."

"And out kroganing the krogan in Garrus's words." Samantha could hear the faint tinge of pride creeping through in Shepard's voice.

"Well, he learned from the best Commander. Every time he incinerates someone with his shotgun and does that little laugh he'll think of you." The soldier let out a noise halfway between a snort and chortle. "That's the one. Speaking of out-kroganing, nice job in the hold."

"It certainly was impressive" Traynor piped up for the first time. "I can barely believe you risked going off like that and saying those things in front of krogan commandos of all people."

"Hell I'd ONLY risk doing that with krogan! Can you imagine trying the exact same thing with Asari commandos? No way I'd walk out that room in one piece with six powerful, precise biotics working together as a single team. Six STG on the other hand... I'd make it out the room no problem but be quietly dying right now as I talk to you guys."

"What about hanar?" Joker asked casually but glancing over at him Sam thought she caught a calculating look in his eye that had nothing to do with flying the ship.

"Hmm, I've only ever fought one hanar. Well... three if you count that bar brawl on Omega..." Traynor watched as the commander visibly relaxed in front of her, Moreau teasing smiles and the occasional laugh out of her as they discussed tactics for beating half a dozen members of various species in the small room off the Normandy's cargo hold.


	13. Back2School

It hadn't taken long for Traynor to realise her workstation had the perfect view of Shepard's perfectly formed backside, the first time they'd been on duty at the same time in fact. Recently however she'd found herself staring up towards the galaxy map for a different reason. The 'Savior of the Citadel' had been walking around the Normandy as if she'd stepped straight out from a propaganda poster. It was an inspiring sight to be sure, simply entering a room seemed to provide an instant morale boost to the people inside, but Traynor had caught the briefest of glimpses of the woman behind the idol and couldn't help but worry. Not about the war as such, she had no doubts about the commander's determination or abilities, had seen first hand as she repeatedly (and at times seemingly almost effortlessly) pulled off the impossible. Her concern was for the woman and how she was really doing behind the mask, so much pressure on one person had to be exhausting. Especially considering the number of personal losses the galaxy kept trying to throw at her.

Even now, on-route to Huerta Memorial to drop off the stable but still severely wounded krogan that everybody agreed Shepard shared, at the very least a Mentor-Prodigy if not adoptive son, relationship with she remained focused on the task at hand. Prioritising mission briefs and studying the mass relays' path links, trying to plot the fastest, most effective course to accomplish as much as possible. She'd already warned the crew there would be no leave this Citadel stop. _'If you need to see someone make sure they're waiting in the docking bay. Once we've got rid of the passengers and resupplied we'll be straight back out.'_ An alert on Samantha's screen caught her attention, EDI had finished the analysis she'd requested. _Damn that AI's fast... Crap, sometimes I hate being right_.

"Commander! Have you got a moment?" Shepard signaled her acknowledgment, finalising the changes on screen so she wouldn't forget her line of thought before heading down the steps to the specialist.

"What've you got?"

"Grissom Academy are requesting help. The Reaper invasion will hit them soon."

"I'm surprised schools weren't evacuated earlier."

"Grissom Academy is more specialised than a normal school. Some of their work has Alliance support. It's also home to some of the smartest students humanity has to offer and their Ascension Project helps gifted young biotics. If it had been open 20 years ago I bet you'd have been there."

"You'd have lost that bet." Shepard gave a shit eating grin, "I wasn't biotic when I enlisted. Anyway what can we do to help?" Samantha's confused face gave way to curiosity at her C.O's casual, mind-blowing revelation, but she kept her inquisitiveness in check and continued with her report.

"Normally I'd say we don't need to do anything. A turian evac transport responded to their distress call, but something seemed off in the signal so I ran an analysis and it's fake. EDI says its similar to the faked turian signal that lured you to a Collector ship?" The commander momentarily froze, face darkening. Traynor had been expecting a 'put it on the map' or possibly even a 'forward on to Admiral X or the Y/Z Fleet' Instead, before she could even finish her briefing, the commander hit a button on her omni-tool and immediately started issuing orders.

"Joker! Course change. Petra Nebula. Get me to Elysium NOW!"

"But what about..." Joker's confused query is cut off.

" **Now** Joker. Cerberus is either about to or already is hitting Grissom Academy. You remember Jack, I'm not letting them do the same things to those kids. Traynor, I want structural blueprints and the latest faculty floor-plans of the station. EDI, get me an up-to-date list of all students and staff still onboard." Samantha had been preparing to cover herself with an acknowledgement of other possibilities such as simple disinformation or interference, while defending her opinion on the most likely theory. However the commander had not only come to the same conclusion before she could voice it, but was acting with even more certainty that it was the correct one than she had herself. With her prepared argument surplus to requirements, she found herself with nothing else to do but throw herself headlong into the commander's orders. With just a few taps on her omni-tool Shepard was already speaking again.

"Cortez, is Shuttle Two space-worthy again yet? Good, get both shuttles prepped for launch. Space station evac. You'll be piloting the first, tell Neta to be ready in case we need the second." The holographic display in the CIC flickered, morphing into a 3D representation of Grissom Academy. The soldier started heading back up the steps to her command platform, pausing and turning to call over her shoulder. "Oh and Traynor..." The specialist looked up, Shepard making sure to lock eyes, filling them with an undercurrent of sincerity. "Good catch."

...

An estimated eighteen staff and students were supposed to still be onboard the station. Too many to fit in a single kodiak shuttle. That had been the deciding factor in the end when Shepard decided to bring a second team along. There were tactical advantages too of course, but she would have been quite willing to forego those benefits if it enabled them to fit in one shuttle, or if the extra personnel would have tipped them over into needing a third run.

She looked over her forces with a critical eye. Garrus, Liara and James were all tried and tested components of her squad. Sergeant 'Wee Mad' MacArthur was similarly of little concern with over ten years combat experience against batarians, mercs and assorted low life. Despite his moniker the sarge had a reputation of good intuition and tactics on the battlefield, only resorting to recklessness when necessary and never contravening orders. The only question mark was Private Sarah Campbell. Shepard knew she and Westmoreland were eager for a more important role than simple door duty and ship patrols, but eagerness was no match for experience. Richard Jenkins' name at the top of the memorial wall was proof enough of that. However she also knew that experience could only be earned in one way and Campbell's scores both on the range and in hostage situation sims highlighted her as theoretically the best suited for this mission. If it had been jungle warfare Westmoreland would have got her chance instead. With everyone suited and booted and on to choosing weapons, Shepard called the private over to her.

"This the point you give the rookie speech ma'am?" Campbell asked, voice showing no trace of the disappointment and bitterness the commander knew from personal experience was bound to be present. ' _COS UNTIL YOU GET PROMOTED, YOU'RE STILL A GODDAMNED ROOKIE TO ME!_ " Shepard could still hear the voice of her own old NCO before every mission.

"Hell no! You're a marine, I'm sure you already know it. This is the 'First time off the boat with Commander Shepard' speech. Completely different. Well, apart from one line I stole. It's a good line though." She shared a grin as the private perked up a bit.

"Does that mean the Sarge get's one too?"

"Ah, I'm afraid not. He was part of a unit that helped me take down some batarian pirates back in ooh... 2178? Not long after I reached N4."

"Didn't think you'd remember that ma'am." MacArthur cut in, pride evident in his voice.

"You're kidding right? A name like 'Wee Mad' MacArthur, who the hell forgets a thing like that? Point is you've had the talk, you're welcome to listen in again if you like. Not much has changed since then though."

"Just Reapers and disposable heat sinks."

"Exactly. Little things." Shepard smirked, the rest of the squad chuckling. Campbell becoming visually more at ease as the banter progressed. Suddenly the commander looked down at her wrist and pointed. "That thing standard issue?"

"Yes ma'am." She signaled Campbell to follow her, heading over to some hidden lockers on the far side of the hanger and started rummaging inside.

"Now where'd I put that hunk of junk? I'd give you something better but half hour before a mission isn't the best time to learn a new operating system... Aha!" She pulled out an omni-tool and tossed it over to the private. "Bluewire X. Exact same interface as the standard model, same shield properties, but better processing capabilities leading to much improved cooldown times. Still a cheap piece of Aldrin Labs crap, but a better quality crap."

"You ever consider doing commercials Commander?" Campbell joked innocently, regretting it as she saw Shepard wince.

"You've clearly never been to Zakera Ward Sarah." Liara stated with levity in her voice. Shepard burying her face in her hands as the whole ground team joined together for a rendition of:

"I'm Commander Shepard and this is my favourite shop on the Citadel!"

"You're never going to let me live that down are you?" Shepard groaned to a series of 'nope' and 'no' s. She smiled reassuringly at the worried looking marine and nodded at the new omni-tool. "Remind me when we get back to kit you out with something that's actually decent."

...

"Attention all personnel. This is a 5 minute warning, I'm about to give Joker free reign of the ship. Secure all food, drinks and personnel effects of a fragile nature and brace for evasive maneuvers. I'm just gonna bale out now so good luck, have fun and try not puke over anything expensive."

...

"Let's establish this as FOB. Sanders any additional intel I need to know?" Grissom Academy's faculty leader gave them an update as she set to work on a computer, being interrupted when she successfully connected to a comm link.

"This is Froeberg! There are students trapped in Orion hall. Cerberus has us boxed in and are closing fast." Shepard had the blueprints up on her omni-tool as he spoke, pointing out the position to her team, Sanders nodding affirmative.

"Marines secure this point, Liara and Garrus with me. We'll filter any students we find back to you, after Sanders confirms their IDs you pass them on to Cortez. When the shuttle's full keep the remainder here until you receive further orders. Keep comms open in case of plan deviation."

...

The blast door to Orion Hall opened to reveal the largest group of students yet fighting off Cerberus troops with biotic attacks. The squad just had time to identify themselves as Alliance before a familiar sound echoed off the walls. Running round the corner in time to see the Ensign they'd been talking too slide in front of another student, throwing a barrier over them just as an Atlas mech opened fire.

"You taking notes Shepard? That's how you're **supposed** to do it!" Garrus gibed as they scattered to separate cover and returned fire.

"Everyone get back! Let the Alliance handle this" the kid called out, missile blasts drowning out the commander's mutterings of _"_ get blown up **one** time and everybody..."

...

"I.. I guess I am ma'am." The young ensign, Prangley, admitted dejectedly. Shepard knew she'd need to walk a fine line. Bawling these students out like they were marines would just see them crumble, but being ever so slightly too soft and have them assume she was patronising them or treating them like children could have just as adverse a reaction.

"No time for guesswork Ensign. You've done a hell of a job holding out like this. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible but I can tell that ain't happening. So, you're in charge. You know your people, how long do you need to reboost?" She was relieved when Prangley's back and shoulders straightened slightly, issuing orders to the rest of the students as he turned and climbed the stairs. She let her eyes drift to the nervous young lady who'd stayed behind.

"Commander, I was wondering... Do you ever forget the first time you kill someone? Because today was mine... and I..." _Ah shit! Where's a shrink when you need one? Oh yeah, NOT in a combat zone, that's why I never trusted mine._ Out the corner of her eye she saw Garrus and Liara casually move away to guard the exits. _Thanks guys! Real supportive._ She tried to think back, what would have helped her to hear? Certainly not what she got, but was there even anything which would.

"Not completely forget no, but you come to terms with it. Right now though you've got to suck it up and concentrate on surviving, cos the first time might stick with you but the later kills? Not so much, I can guarantee if you die today Cerberus won't remember you. So, hold it together a little longer and once we're out of here you can have all the chats and whatever else you need." _Preferably not with me, I've got enough nightmares right now without that batarian bastard popping up again._ Rodriguez nodded and the commander headed off to rejoin her squad.

 _..._

"Zulu Actual this is Greyhound One" Cortez's voice came over the team comms. "The Cerberus cruiser is coming back."

"How long have we got?"

"Two minutes tops. After that there's no way we'll get past them."

"Roger Greyhound. Give it 30 seconds in case there's any stragglers en route then take whoever you've got and get out of here. We'll find another way off this station... Sanders did you catch that? The students are safe but the shuttle's a no-go. Zulu Five get over here, Four and Six stay with Sanders."

...

Shepard couldn't help overhearing bits of students' conversations as she waited for MacArthur. As usual her legend seemed to be boosting morale but she couldn't help feel bad for Prangley. Sure the kid was scared, but so had she been the first time she saw combat, and **she** hadn't had to worry about looking after anyone else back then. With another year and some proper military training instead of just 'Alliance Lite' he'd make a fine officer.

"Alright everyone, get ready." She called as she saw 'Wee Mad' saunter in with a shotgun and a grin. "Liara, Mac and I will go in first and draw their fire."

"Commander might it be better if we follow along the second level?" Prangley suggested. "You can take point while we hit them from above." Shepard smiled at him.

"Great minds Prangley... Garrus you're up top. Maybe with a height advantage and my dazzling brilliance not around to distract you, you'll get a decent score today. The rest of you keep low and focus on your barriers. If anyone feels like doing something a little more then keep an eye on your surroundings and time your shots..." Any further advice was cut of as Cerberus performed a group hack of the student's omni-tools.

"Students of Grissom Academy, the Alliance soldiers cannot save you. All they can do is get you killed. Surrender peacefully and you won't be harmed." The commander couldn't help the snort of disbelief that escaped as she shook her head.

"Aww shucks Mac, you and me best go home, Cerbs says we can't win. I knew I shouldn't have let the Alliance reinstate me! I guess it's all up to Garrus and Liara now." There were a couple of chuckles from the Zulus behind her but the civilians in front didn't look reassured. _I always forget how few of them understand humour. Well, our sense of humour._

"What if... What if they're not lying?" Rodriguez stuttered. Shepard glanced at her omni-tool, noting the time they didn't have, and signaled her squad to spread back into defensive watch positions just to be safe.

"I've seen first hand what Cerberus does to people they've promised not to harm. Believe me when I say there's worse things than dying. I know you're all scared, there's no shame in that. This is your first time in a fight or die situation, I'd be more worried if you **weren't** scared. But courage isn't about being fearless, far from it. True courage, true bravery comes from being scared and doing what needs to be done anyway. You've got the support of the best team in the galaxy, so let's do this."

...

Firing a final rocket into the mass of Cerberus troops caught in a singularity, Shepard leapt down from the borrowed Atlas and ran towards the hanger. MacArthur slowed to toss a grenade into the vacated mech's cockpit and another down the canon's barrel before charging after her, Campbell and Vega laying down suppressing fire as the rest of the squad sprinted across the open.

"Vega, Garrus Shuttle One." Nothing else needed to be said, the turian switching smoothly from sniper to assault rifle as he ran, taking position just inside the shuttle ready to lay down covering fire if necessary. James stowing his weapons as he slid into the pilot seat and began takeoff procedures. The last of the students clambered aboard and Shepard signaled the rest of her team to board Shuttle Two.

"Wait! Where's Rodriguez?"

Looking around they saw her in the other room, a Cerberus unit hot on her tail. The commander ran straight at the window, putting the full brunt of her cybernetic muscle and bone enhancements behind the blow as her shoulder crashed into the bullet proof glass. The butt of her rifle came down repeatedly on the resulting crack, chipping a hole in the window with painstaking slowness.

"She's not going to make it!" Prangley summoned up his full biotic potential into a single attack, Shepard quickly hurdling over the now empty frame to help Rodriguez. _Even after all Samara's training, whenever I'm in a situation where I have to react on instinct I always forget I have biotics now_. She chided herself as she pulled the ensign into the shuttle, turning to help haul Prangley in she instead saw him fall to enemy fire. The shuttle lifting off as the door closed.

"Thank you Commander. We'd have never gotten off that station if you hadn't come."

"Some of us didn't get off." Rodriguez observed prompting Sanders and a few of the students to vocalise memories of him. Shepard stayed silent, keeping her expression neutral as she absorbed information on yet another life she'd failed.

...

 **Author's note:** I know, I know, technically this mission can't be done after the Cerberus coup attempt. Artistic license and all that. Just imagine in this timeline TIM had been fully focused on the coup, planning it for ages and once it ended suddenly realised he aught to focus on getting his grubby little hands on more people and equipment and upscaling the rest of Cerberus operations. Or accept that my brain came up with stories for the other chapters before it found the inspiration for this one.

FOB - Forward Operating Base


	14. Chapter 14

EDI had informed the commander back when the turian-krogan alliance was first secured that transport logistics could prove problematic. So far Shepard's threats, combined with being given freedom to roam the entirety of decks 3 to 5, had enabled the Normandy to remain unscathed but tensions were beginning to rise. First the ship had been diverted, increasing travel time, then Shepard had raced off into battle, leaving Aralakh company behind instead of allowing them to join her on her mission of glory. Finally the commander had returned, bringing with her a mewling selection of runts that they were expected to share training space with, that in itself wouldn't be so bad but they'd been prohibited from punching the whelps.

The Grissom Academy students weren't having a great time of it either. First they'd been thrust without warning into a baptism of fire combat experience against Cerberus. They'd seen friends die in front of them and now they were discovering first hand just how accurate some specie stereotypes could be.

The science students were easiest to deal with, off duty engineers and specialists only too willing to escort them to various parts of the ship to geek out. The biotic students mostly hung out on deck 3 but Shepard was worried that without enough to do they might end up wallowing in negative thoughts. Everyone had been made aware that Sanders and Chakwas could be approached for help or just a friendly chat at any time and a few of the more empathetic marines had been surreptitiously planted about the deck just on the off chance anyone asked to compare experiences, but as the doc said 'we can't force anyone to accept help. Certainly not just yet.' Somehow they made it through the first day without any homicides but there was still an estimated 52 hours travel time together and the tension needed a release.

The commander's solution turned out to be very... novel.

...

There wasn't a great deal of space left in the hold. Both of the Normandy's UT-47A kodiak's had been hung away on rails, the space below filled with storage crates in an attempt to make as much room as possible for the main event. The two hijacked Cerberus shuttles lay on the deck, having been thoroughly inspected by a team of specialists and engineers led by EDI and Dr. T'Soni, who had uncovered disappointingly little and their scientific and strategic usefulness declared at an end. Shepard stood on a crate as she addressed the two clusters of people around the shuttles, a few brave off duty crew members gathered round the edges of the room with even more crowding behind the safety of the observation window along deck 4.

"The rules are simple. Upon my command you will have 6 minutes to do as much damage to your shuttle as possible. You may not interfere with the other team or their shuttle. You may not use any extra tools. Liara and myself will be on watch for any dangerous looking debris and try to prevent anything damaging **my** shuttles, ship or crew, but we are forbidden from touching, either physically or bioticly, any pieces still attached to either shuttle. Any excessively dangerous behavior from either team may lead to forfeits at my discretion. When the time is up Lieutenant Cortez will analyse both shuttles and judge which is the most destroyed from the qualified perspective of someone who'd have to fix the bloody things if they didn't belong to the enemy and we weren't spacing them afterwards! Doctor Chakwas has also graced us with her presence in case of any unforeseen accidents. At which point she will treat any wounds and then publicly flay me alive for condoning such reckless behavior." A chuckle rippled through the gathered spectators.

"Aralakh company, are you ready?" A deep roar of agreement bellowed round the shuttle hanger at the commander's question.

"Grissom Academy, are you ready?" A cheer from the students, Normandy personnel joining in to lend a bit more volume.

"Definitely non-existent bookies! Are you ready?" A small whoop from among the audience.

"Three, Two. ONE. **GO!** " The noise was deafening as the Ascension Project students pushed, pulled and twisted with biotic energy fields trying to force the various sections apart. The krogan took a more direct approach, using their extra bulk and muscle to physically pound into their shuttle. Fists and shoulders denting metal as they pummeled it with all the force of a small meteor shower.

Cheers of encouragement rained down from the crowd, an almost feral grin on the commander's face as she reveled in the destruction. Sympathetic winces from Cortez and Adams who are able to see past the paint job to the innocent machine parts being tortured beneath. One of the Grissom students shows signs of the ever dangerous combination of intelligence and recklessness as he covers himself with a barrier to enter inside the shuttle. Moments later the sounds of miniature warps hitting the controls can be heard. Not to be outdone a couple of krogan enter their craft and start tearing at the seats, trying to remove them from the chassis.

" **TIME!** " The commander finally called out, voice carrying clearly over the din. The teams reluctantly backing away from the desecrated corpses of their victims to allow Cortez access. The students' faces are flush with excitement and exertion, adrenaline still coursing through their veins as they surveyed their handiwork.

"Hey! Which of you pyjaks managed to take out the window?" The students looked over at Aralakh company who were gazing in admiration at the combined carnage. The window of the krogan shuttle heavily cracked but still attached. Shepard's smile is more civilised this time as she observes some of the braver kids engage with a couple of more open minded krogan to compare notes.

"Commander." Cortez exits the second vehicle totting up figures on his datapad, she holds up a hand for silence, a hush descending over the ship as she nods for the Lieutenant to report. "This is only a rough estimation of course but the predicted cost of repair is as follows: Aralakh company 1,386,000 credits, 142 man hours. Grissom Academy 1,847,000 credits, 96 man hours." Noise erupts once more at the results, the C.O miraculously failing to witness the numerous credits changing hands throughout the audience.

"You know," Liara steps up behind Shepard's shoulder. "That doesn't sound nearly high enough." A half smile tugs at the human's lips.

"I know what you mean. Maybe when the rest go on lunch we should remedy that."

"Absolutely."


	15. Pills & Needles

As soon as the alarm went off Samantha immediately dry swallowed her pills, resetting the timer for her next dose. She sighed as she realised she was nearing the end of the packet and headed towards the med bay intending to request a repeat prescription before they ran out completely. As she got closer she heard a thudding sound from inside and nearly turned away for her own protection, before noticing the steady rhythmic nature of the noise. It sounded too controlled for a patient freakout and the door light remained green, suggesting no safety or privacy concerns. She briefly worried whether the doctor would have time to initiate a lockdown if there was an incident, until reminding herself that EDI would certainly notice anything wrong and not just instigate lockdown but contact the appropriate crew for help. _Although she didn't with the Cerberus mech. Shush, that was different_. She entered quickly before her brain could speculate further.

Despite the fantastic and outlandish possibilities concocted by her imagination, Samantha was surprised by the simplistic explanation that greeted her eyes as Shepard sat upright in one of the beds catching and bouncing a ball off the opposite wall with one hand while a needle and tubing snaked away from the other motionless arm. The commander's head swiveled round as the door swished open, a guilty look at having been caught briefly replaced by recognition and relief before resorting to a carefree neutrality, all flicking across her face in a matter of seconds. She cussed suddenly as her distraction resulted in the ball bouncing off her shoulder and rolling onto the med bay floor.

"I'll get it!" Traynor sprung into action, crawling after the ball, her mind racing: _What the hell happened? There were no missions today. She seemed fine at breakfast!_ Capturing the ball Samantha rose up beside the bed, blushing slightly as she noticed the commander's eyes on her. _Of course she's looking at you, you're the only person in here AND you've got her toy._ She stretched out her arm, dropping the ball into the commander's outstretched hand.

"Thanks... Take it you're after the doc?" Sam nodded, not trusting her voice. "Vampire went out to round up more victims, she should be back in about..." Shepard paused glancing down at her IV bag as if it were a countdown timer. Traynor followed her gaze, finally processing the details as she realised the less than half full bag of red liquid was placed below the commander instead of above. "6-8 minutes. Give or take... I can call her back sooner if you need?"

"No, it's OK. No hurry." Traynor shook her head, sitting down on the cot opposite, racking her brain for something to say to fill the silence. "We got word that everyone from Grissom Academy arrived safely."

"Not quite everyone..." Samantha didn't know what to say to that as Shepard stared morosely at the wall. She pulled herself out of it quickly. "Still... We wouldn't have got any of them out if you hadn't caught that signal. Nice work."

"Thanks Commander." The specialist's voice sounded awkward as she looked down at her fidgeting fingers, avoiding the commander's gaze, but Shepard reached over grasping her hand gently, shocking her back into eye contact.

"Hey, I mean it Traynor. You saved those kids' lives. Give yourself some credit and take pride in a job well done."

"Thanks." There was more confidence in her tone this time round before it suddenly became coy. "You know, you **may** have helped a **little** with the whole rescue thing." The commander chuckled, releasing her hand and leaning back.

"I had the easy job. Credit's all yours." The silence that fell between them was less tense this time, finally being broken by Samantha's curiosity.

"Are you sure you're allowed to give blood so soon after..." Shepard interrupted her with a chortle.

"Me? No! Doc on the other hand... Whatever reasons you're thinking I've tried them all. Apparently cos it's aughtar... Au- **tol** -o-go-us, hardly any of the usual excuses matter. Body's been clear of drugs, diseases and wounds for more than 8 days so Chakwas wants to steal some now while we've still got enough travel time to recuperate. I'm telling you Traynor, always read the small print. There's a reason they're called blood **banks**. One moment you think it was a donation to save your life, next thing you know they're demanding regular repayments plus interest."

"The way you're talking I'm surprised Doctor Chakwas left without tying you to the bed!" A sudden playful glint in the commander's eye made the specialist replay the sentence in her head with a groan. But the Spectre's witty remark never makes it as the door slides open and Chakwas marches in, followed begrudgingly by a very unwilling Garrus.

"Can't I just slit my wrist and drip into a bucket, why does there have to be needles?"

"I second Vakarian's proposal for improved medical procedures!" The commander called cheerfully from her bed, the doctor subtly rolling her eyes in mock dismay.

"You're worse than children, the pair of you." Spotting Samantha she headed over as the two comrades continued to banter.

"So she caught you too Shepard, couldn't you warn me?"

"I sent a message saying you might want to take a break from calibrations. What more do you want?"

"I don't know. 'Priority Flash, Chakwas is out for blood' would've been a good one. Hang on, why isn't T'Soni here?" Having ascertained Traynor was content to wait the doctor turned back to her less willing charges.

"Because Liara doesn't make a habit of coming back from missions half dead, expecting me to patch her up. I still have plenty of asari blood left in the freezer. You two on the other hand... Haven't you heard of the saying 'a sucking chest wound is nature's way of telling you to slow down'?"

"Ah well, that's one wound I've never had." The turian replied casually, before adding pointedly, "unlike some."

"Come on, that was months ago!" The commander stated indignantly. "Ignore him. He's just jealous I beat his kill count last mission."

"I still lead on head shots."

"Yeah, have you ever tried head shoting a warp? Oh wait, you can't."

"That's right Shepard, I don't cheat. All my kills come from pure soldiering."

"Ooh, you saying I'm less of a soldier since I came back? That's fighting talk right there, next mission you and I..."

"ENOUGH!" Doctor Chakwas' voice cut across the discussion firmly and Sam was witness to the two most hardcore warriors in the galaxy shrink back like naughty school children, sneaking furtive glances at each other. "You already know what I'm going to say Shepard, and Garrus you should know better than to encourage her. Save it for the simulations. If I find out either of you are imposing handicaps or limitations during a mission then I'll declare you mentally unfit for duty and ground both of you."

There was a mutter that sounded suspiciously like: "As if anyone sane could do the things we do." Before a hush descended over the room. Her dominance established Chakwas set to work.

"Garrus get that armour off. I want you to be ready by the time I've finished torturing the commander."

"Hah. You'll never make me talk." It didn't take much for Shepard's irreverent attitude to return, the doctor shaking her head as she initiated a scan on her omni-tool.

"If only. It seems when you and Garrus are in the same room I'm lucky to get more than 2 minutes peace."

"I can leave if that helps?" The turian suggested hopefully.

"Stay!" "Sit down" The two women ordered him at the same time. Samantha struggling valiantly not to laugh at the dejected expression as he obeyed.

"Shepard, remember what I said about your scars?" Traynor's ears pricked up. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping on her C.O's medical but the ever changing scars was something she'd been intrigued about for ages. All she knew about them was what had been in Joker's 'How to not get killed' email, "If the commander gets all glowy and freaky do NOT stare at the scars. Remember the more scary she looks, the more likely you are to die if you upset her." The rumor mill whispered that it was something Cerberus had done, but nobody who didn't already know was willing to risk asking. That was survival tip no.1: Don't talk about Cerberus in front of the commander unless a) it's mission related or b) she starts the conversation.

"I know Karin I'm trying, but if there's a choice between looking pretty and helping end the war, the war comes first every time." _Well that doesn't answer anything, now I'm just even more curious_. _Trying what?_

"I **meant** stop scratching them." The commander instantly dropped her hand with a sheepish expression and a verbal apology. "You told me they didn't hurt."

"They don't! Technically it's your fault anyway." The soldier was quick to deflect, Chakwas raising a quizzical eyebrow forcing Shepard to elaborate with a shrug. "You took away my datapad. It only seems to happen when my hands have nothing else to do." Without a word the doctor headed over to an equipment drawer. Pulling out a scalpel she removed the detachable blade, turning back and presenting it to her patient. Shepard took it gratefully and started skillfully twirling the delethalised handle between her fingers as the doc continued with her examination.

"I'd be more comfortable if we could build up a larger reserve, but that's as much blood as I can take for today." The doctor started unhooking the soldier from the full IV bag. "I trust you know the rules by now?"

"Yeah, yeah. Stick here for 15 minutes, take it easy the rest of the day, stay hydrated, get a decent meal, iron supplements, call you if I do something stupid..." Traynor almost wilts at the look from Chakwas even though it isn't aimed at her, instead of shriveling under the doctor's gaze the commander simply chuckles "Sorry did I mash the last two together? I meant call you if I feel faint or dizzy and DON'T do something stupid. Relax Karin, I'm pig headed not suicidal."


	16. Crowded skies

"Commander! We've got Reaper signatures inbound. Whatever you're doing down there make it quick!"

"How much time Joker?"

"I don't know... Not enough."

"Dammit! We're nearly there... Give me that blowtorch! Everyone back to the shuttles." The comms fell silent, mission screens in the CIC showing most of the ground team's dots moving away from the commander's ID... Most. "Garrus, your translator glitching? I said everyone."

"I heard you Shepard, someone's got to carry your stubborn ass back to Chakwas if this goes wrong."

"Fine, just make sure I'm not carrying you... See if you can find a crowbar."

...

The alarm for battle stations was blaring throughout the ship. Traynor didn't have to do much, she was already in position from supporting the ground mission so just took a moment to strap into the safety harness in preparation for the inevitable evasive maneuvers.

"Greyhound One fully loaded. Returning to trap." Cortez's voice came over the mission channel. Behind her the elevator door opened and personnel filed out occupying every seat in the CIC. The alarm stopped and there was blissful silence for a moment before voices from various departments and locations started reporting their readiness over the ship's speakers.

"November Control, November Control." Noise in her ear pulled her full attention back to more important concerns. "This is Greyhound Two. Any change in Zulus One and Two's position?"

"Negative Greyhound Two. They're still at the objective."

"Roger that control. Holding position"

Traynor typed a few more virtual defenses on to all the comm channels that were still operational. It was a pointless activity against reapers really, but she needed to feel as if she was doing something and there wasn't anything useful she could help with in the current situation. Background noise on the ship indicated shuttle one had returned with the first half of the ground team offloaded back to the safety (albeit only comparatively) of the Normandy.

"Greyhound Two. This is Greyhound One. Return your current puppies to trap. I'll pick up remaining Zulus."

"Negative Greyhound One, I'm already here. No point risking both shuttles."

"Sod the shuttles Greyhound Two. If this goes sideways it'll be three lives not twelve. Besides I'm not waiting at the RV, I'm going to them. Now return to trap. That's an order!"

Unnerved by the lack of communication from the commander and turian, the comm specialist hacked directly into the audio video feeds from their armour. The low lighting didn't really provide much picture detail, but she could hear ambient noise from the microphones.

"Much as I hated the whole Cerberus thing Shepard, there are times I miss the more criminal element of our last crew. Kassumi could have had this thing out of here before we even reached the cave."

"She better not have! I'm not doing all this to go back empty handed."

Switching windows, Samantha watched her screens in awe as the external side cameras on the kodiak filled with a close up of rock. The pilot's POV showing just a little more depth and distance as Cortez flew the shuttle through the narrow ravine, pushing ever downwards.

"I've got it!" Shepard's suit mic picked up the triumphant moment before she activated comms for an actual broadcast. "Greyhound this is Zulu One. Package secured, we're on route to extraction point."

"Zulu One, change of plan. I'll pick you up from the cave entrance."

"Copy that" was the commander's official acknowledgement, but the suit mic captured more. "Must be international ignore Shepard day... I was looking forward to climbing that canyon."

"Blame the reapers Shepard." Came Garrus's calm voice, a hint of amusement in the subvocals.

"Oh don't worry, I'm adding it to the list. To think I thought I was running out of reasons to hate them even more." They finally emerged blinking into the sunlight, looking around a moment before Shepard let out a whoop of joy. "Hell we lucked out Garrus! Who'd have thought we could find another pilot as crazy as us."

Cortez was flying at almost exactly 90 degrees sideways by now to avoid the sharp rocks on either side. The door was already open as he pulled up just below the cave entrance so the duo could drop inside, thankful that the shuttle doors could be opened independently of eachother so they didn't fall straight through what was currently acting as the floor. Lifting away immediately, they didn't fully level off until they were out of the chasm.

...

"We're onboard Joker. Go!" Came the order. Immediately Samantha could feel the subtle shift in tempo of the ship as they accelerated. A few moments later the commander appeared on deck, taking her position on the command platform. Instead of reaching for a safety harness like any other crew member, Shepard simply activated her armour's mag boots.

"Uh Commander?" Joker's voice was definitely about to be the bearer of bad tidings. "You remember how I said we'd need to vent the IES stealth sinks after this mission..."

"Great. How long can we push it?" The commander's hands were a flurry of movement as she manipulated the galaxy map, visual representations of the reaper ships getting ever closer to their position as EDI reeled of the relevant stats. Suddenly Shepard stopped, zooming in on a planet in the opposite direction to the relay they were supposed to be heading to. "There! Sending you coordinates Joker. That should just be within range. FTL to the far side, then full stop, and vent everything. The moment we're empty, restealth and jump to FTL."

"Aye aye Commander." There was something slightly fear inducing about a non-joking Lieutenant Moreau, Traynor decided. It was the ultimate, irrefutable proof that a situation was deathly serious. A single glance towards the galaxy map alleviated her anxiety somewhat as Shepard stood tall, continuing to exude confidence and certainty.

"Power down Thanix cannons and reduce barriers to 50% but be ready to reinstate on my command. This is gonna be tight." _OK, nerves are back! We're going to try and outrun reapers with no shields or weaponry? Are you crazy Commander?_ In her peripheral vision Sam noticed a few other crew members look up in shock and surprise, eyes drifting briefly over to their C.O before returning to their screens with renewed faith and determination.

 _Commander Shepard drove a mako through a mass relay. Commander Shepard kills thresher maws on foot. Commander Shepard held the breech on Elysium singlehandedly. Commander Shepard killed a reaper with a thresher maw. Commander Shepard flew through the Omega 4 relay, wiped out the collectors AND came back! Commander Shepard punched a brute to death with her bare hands when her rifle jammed!_ OK so Traynor had watched that last one happen and **technically** the brute was already injured from the preceding gunfire and she was fairly certain there was some biotic power behind that punchbut STILL... If Shepard thinks we can do this then we can do this. _When the Commander's deeds are written up for prosperity this current situation probably won't even make it to a footnote._

"Ready all weapon systems. Barriers to 100%" The commander's voice cut through her thoughts. _Crap they've caught us!_ She stared at the screens in panic but the symbols depicting the reaper vessels were still where they'd left them as they slipped behind the uninhabited planet Shepard had chosen.

"Initiating full stop... Full stop." Joker's update sounded over the comms before being replaced by the voice of Chief Engineer Adams. "Venting IES systems in three... two... one... Venting." Traynor had heard the effect of the emissions venting process being described as like setting of a flare, but it was still amazing in a horrifying way to see the results first hand, the reaper signatures on the screen suddenly heading towards them as they focused on the bright beacon of energy Normandy was jettisoning into the dark cold of space. The commander's eyes remained locked on the map, no sign of any emotion or doubts just pure cold calculation as EDI counted down the capacity of the lithium heat sinks and the enemy closed in.

"Fifteen percent." The reapers were technically within firing range now. The planet temporarily blocking line of sight and protecting them. It wouldn't be long before the reapers navigated round the obstacle and combat ensued, but for now it granted them precious extra time. A faint thrum through the floor indicated the Normandy's engines booting up once more.

"Brace for evasive maneuvers! Pick your shots!" Red light briefly illuminated the CIC as the first reaper beam fired and missed. Joker briefly but deliberately sandwiching himself between two sovereign class ships in an attempt to get them to hit each other as he dived away.

"Zero percent." EDI's emotionless voice finally gave the report they were all waiting for.

"Now Joker!" Ordered the commander miraculously (well OK, magnetically) remaining upright as the pilot pulled a reverse Immelmann turn. The rest of the crew swung around in their harnesses as the Normandy banked quicker than the artificial gravity could keep up with and then they were away, constantly slipping and changing direction even after the stealth systems engaged until they hit a mass relay, escaping the system.


	17. Chess coach

"Really Commander, med bay again? The war room's going to start getting jealous." Samantha joked as the C.O headed to the kitchen counter, the rest of the mess empty this late into the evening.

"Hmm... Oh, no, wasn't for me this time." She seemed distracted and distant as she poured a coffee from the pot.

"You okay?"

"Fine. I told you, it wasn't me."

"Didn't we have this conversation already? Now, do you remember what we would find if we looked up 'fine' in the dictionary?"

"A picture of me?" Shepard jested lightly but it sounded like her heart was only half in it.

"Oh you're still using picture dictionaries!" Traynor exaggerated her voice. "That explains a lot." The warrior smiled, starting to warm to the idea of some banter as she found that magical voice putting her at ease as usual.

"Well you know how us ground-pounders struggle with the big words... You should see the picture they've got for fraternization." The specialist choked on her drink, doubling over in a coughing fit as the commander smirked, waiting until she could breathe normally again. "Better?" Sam nodded. Her throat feeling slightly raw she reached for a glass of water but noticing the glint in Shepard's eye she restricted herself to tiny sips. After awhile of nothing happening she risked a bigger drink only for:

"It's a picture of a corporal and a major eating pizza."

"Cow!" She finally managed to wheeze out. "Aren't you supposed to kill the enemy not your crew?"

"Don't worry, med bay's right there. Besides, I've tried, Cerberus doesn't have a sense of humour... Although I haven't tested it against the Reapers yet..."

"Please, please don't. I can totally picture you just standing in front of a Reaper swarm yelling jokes at them."

"You mean like: What do you call a five foot spider with an artillery cannon? Dead."

"That was awful Commander."

"Uh uh, Traynor. Off duty. You keep using my rank I'll have to start issuing you orders. Maybe force you to laugh at my terrible jokes. What do you call a 2 kilometer long squid? Scrap metal."

"Still terrible. Please stop Shepard, I'm sorry! If you want I will never address you in a respectful way ever again." Samantha begged, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. Shepard relenting with a chuckle. Their mirth finally faded out into a companionable silence as they sat opposite each other sipping their beverages. Neither quite sure where to take the conversation next but unwilling to withdraw from the relaxed atmosphere. In the end it was the commander that interrupted the peace first.

"So... You heard anything from your folks yet?" The specialist nods.

"They're alive. Finally got an email through a couple of days ago. Apparently the Reapers haven't reached their system yet, biggest sign of the war is a massive influx of refugees. Not a lot more detail than that but my dad sent his next chess move. He's gone for a Falkbeer counter gambit so I guess I can try using the Old Main Line or a Nimzowitsch counter..." Shepard raised her hand slowly in front of her face before turning 90 degrees and swiping it swiftly across the top of her head. An apologetic look of confusion on her face.

"All I got from that was beer." Samantha laughs.

"Sorry Shepard, I keep forgetting you don't play. Unfortunately Falkbeer's not alcoholic, he was some Austrian chess master in the mid 1800's."

"Ah well, there we go, 19th Century's a bit before my time. Earth history wasn't a big focus at my school. I think they vaguely mentioned that there **was** a pre-space age era..." That melancholic look was returning to the commander's face and Traynor tried to switch the conversation as subtly as possible.

"I seem to remember you implying you might be up for some chess lessons at some point."

"I did didn't I." Shepard smiled, glancing at her omni-tool. "Very well, I've got some spare time. If you think you've got the patience to teach this stubborn old mule, I'll try anything once."

...

"And that's it? Just capture that one guy?"

"Mhmm" Traynor watched the commander's eyes drop back down to the board with the slightest of frowns, a finger tracing out patterns as she tried to commit each piece's moves to memory. Her gaze flicked back up to the specialist for another question.

"And if the useless little dudes reach the other end of the board they can become any piece I want?"

"Yep... Well, they can't be a king or another pawn but other than that yes." Another glance at the board before Shepard looked back up with a grin on her face.

"I am about to get absolutely annihilated aren't I?"

...

The first match saw the commander stick to the defensive, reacting to Traynor's moves and just getting a feel for how the pieces moved. While she never made it to an attacking position she did a good job in recognising and neutralising several threats, lasting longer than most rookie players managed in their first game against a seasoned opponent.

The second round took a strange turn when the soldier tried applying real life tactics to the board. For awhile it worked as Traynor played as conservatively as possible just to satisfy her curiosity as to what the hell Shepard was trying to accomplish. She'd nearly managed to somehow get most of the surviving pawns into a two rank block in the middle, leaving the flanks of the board clear for her 'special forces' to maneuver in, when she made the mistake of capturing a piece other than a pawn. The specialist finally declared war and quickly claimed the victory.

...

"Rematch?"

"Hell yes! I've got a plan this time."

It was so rare to play against someone with no knowledge of chess at all. Even the newest wannabe usually did a brief extranet search for a few basic tactics and probably attempt a couple of beginner level games against a VI before risking a game and potential ridicule in front of an organic opponent. Instead of annoying or frustrating however, Traynor was finding the situation intriguing, amusing and highly enjoyable. Although she didn't have the heart to inform her naive C.O that her 'plan' had been a staple of the game for over 500 years and she'd learnt all the main variations and counter moves for it by the time she was 15. Instead she merely accepted the gambit and sat back to see what Shepard did next.

It was actually kind of impressive if you thought about it she realised. Sure it was a common tactic nowadays, but it had still taken a couple of centuries for someone to originally analyse the strategy and write it down. The commander was to all intents and purposes coming up with it off the top of her head in only her fifth game. Despite all the head butting and too close for comfort explosions she clearly had plenty of brain cells still functioning. _Then again..._ She watched as Shepard departed from the wisdom of the grandmasters of old, leaving herself open for a potential check in three. A moment later she thought she saw the commander's plan; relying on a different set of moves, a potential check in four moves. Only... _no, surely not?_ Traynor's defense of that move would lead to mate in her favour. Surely that wasn't Shepard's plan? Further analysis of the board suggested it probably was, as it was the only current available strategy that would allow the warrior any sort of advantage, however temporary.

"Should I worry that our Savior of the Galaxy can't plan past four moves?" Samantha teased. She was rewarded by the sight of her second favourite face as the commander's brow furrowed into an adorable thinking frown, NOT that she'd ever admit that out loud.

"Ah, bollocks." Shepard finally noticed the inevitable. Her face scrunching up even tighter as she scrutinized the board for another way out of the impending trap. Her head finally raised once more, seeking eye contact with the specialist, a wide grin lighting up her face.

"Rematch?"

...

A yawn escaped the comm specialist despite her best efforts to suppress it as she set up the board for another game. She'd lost count of how many matches they'd played now but she'd enjoyed every second. At one point Samantha had considered simply allowing the commander to win a match, but she had the feeling Shepard wouldn't appreciate a dive if she figured it out. Besides even without any actual help or teaching on her part the commander was a quick learner, improving in leaps and bounds with every game. There had been an increasing number of checks, the specialist always managing to somehow wriggle out of them and turn the tables to secure the checkmate that was proving so illusive for her C.O. Then suddenly the last game had ended in stalemate. Shepard's three remaining pieces charging round the board trying to pin down Sam's solitary king. Traynor didn't want to be the one to declare the draw, not wanting to look like she was trying to deny her commander a deserved victory, but she was equally not going to just sit back and hand it to her! So they kept moving pieces for far longer than most people would.

It was then that Samantha made the realisation. _She's not getting irritated_. In spite of back-to-back losses, the continuous outmaneuvering and the near merciless teasing, throughout the whole night there had been no signs of any annoyance or anger or frustration of any kind from Shepard. The woman was usually so temperamental, always on edge, under constant pressure and ready to snap, but despite the defeats she seemed completely relaxed and at ease. Sam had just moved her king for what seemed like the hundredth time when the soldier finally capitulated with a grin.

"Well this ain't getting me my win. Set it back up."

And then like an idiot she'd yawned. The spell had broken, the commander glancing down at her omni-tool for the first time since they'd started playing, shocked at just how much time had elapsed.

"You should go get some sleep Traynor." She tried to protest but Shepard shook her head with a smirk. "When my inevitable victory comes I don't want you claiming you were at a disadvantage."

"And what will you be doing while I'm sleeping?" _Wait that sounded weird_. For once the commander didn't seem to notice.

"I heard rumours that the war room's getting jealous. I should spend some time there, assure it I could never love the med bay more..." She stood up and as she did the relaxed carefree Shepard vanished, transforming into the determined, propaganda poster commander. For a split second during the change Samantha caught a glimpse of something else.

"You look exhausted!" The words spilled out before her conscious mind had even processed what she saw. The commander flinched, whole body suddenly tensing. "You need to make sure you sleep too."

"That sounded vaguely like an order Specialist." Her voice was hard, all traces of the laid-back woman who was off duty a moment ago gone.

"No! Merely a... polite suggestion ma'am..." For a moment she panicked, the mood had changed so quickly she wasn't sure what to do. She might as well go for broke. "I mean... if we **are** going to play again I'd hate for you to claim a disadvantage when I obliterate you with back-to-back victories." She held her breath as she waited for a response. Shepard forced her body to loosen up, her mouth moving in a pale imitation of a smile that, despite its lack of authenticity, somehow helped put Traynor back at ease. She gave a slight incline of the head, signaling an acknowledgment of words said rather than agreement with them and softened her voice.

"I'll take it under advisement Traynor. Now go to bed. **That's** an order."

...

 **Author's note:** I know very little about chess, I remember the patterns the various pieces can move in but that's about it, certainly nothing about tactics. Anything chess related in this (or any future) chapter is as a result of scrolling down a webpage of chess tactics until a name jumped out as interesting and that I could play around with. I really lucked out with Falkbeer in that the page also mentioned two possible responses with wonderfully bamboozling names. The internet's a wonderful thing.


	18. Darkness

Shepard woke with a start, dark energy swirling round her body as her biotics flared instinctively in response to the perceived threat of her subconscious mind. The afterimage of her nightmare fresh in her mind as her eyes darted round the room checking for threats, forcing her breathing back under control as she recognised her cabin. Covering her face with her hands as she tried to banish the accusatory whispers from her mind and slow her racing heart. She didn't need the dead to tell her how she'd failed them, she was more than aware of that on her own.

She glanced at the clock, just under 4 hours since she last looked, probably less than that was actually sleep, she'd been reading reports at the time. The simple words and figures on the datapads translated into repugnant pictorial detail by her mind when exhaustion had finally claimed her. She didn't need to use much imagination, having more than enough memories of war zones for her subconscious to flick through, filtering the most relevant recollections and bombarding her with scenario after scenario of the horrors occurring continuously round the galaxy while she slept. Those few situations where she didn't have real life experiences of her own, her ever helpful brain adapted the imagery uploaded from the Prothean beacon all those years ago. Collector and prothean placeholders being substituted with current galactic species and their associated husks.

The commander reached out for the nearest datapad and found herself face to face with yet more situation reports, cities and ships lost, thousands more lives she'd failed to save. _You weren't even in that sector of the galaxy_. A tiny voice deep inside her tried to reason. _[Well maybe I should have been]_ _You can't be everywhere. No matter how hard you try you can't save them all. [But I could have saved someone, I should have saved Ash...]_ It was drowned out by a tidal wave of guilt and self-loathing.

People kept sympathising about the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders but her shoulders felt fine, it was her chest that was the problem. Darkness swirled inside her, far blacker than the confines of her room. At least that had slight illumination from the fish tank, inside her there was nothing. She checked the clock. Another 3 hours until her alarm. She pulled the duvet closer and felt the darkness inside constrict around her lungs. She tried to focus on breathing but her breathing was just fine, externally all her symptoms were fine, but that didn't stop the feeling that something powerful was inside her slowly crushing her lungs.

 _I can't face much more of this._

A memory surfaced unbidden, her parents talking to each other at the dinner table. "If you don't like your job you should quit. Life's too short to waste it on something you don't want to do. There's plenty of other work out there, find a job you can be happy doing. This isn't good for you. Quit."

A dry chuckle issued inside Shepard's head but it didn't make it out her mouth. Even if it had, there would have been no humour in it. _Yeah_... _Next time Hackett calls up on vidcom I should just tell him I quit. 'Sorry Sir I'm not getting job satisfaction anymore, you'll have to find a new savior of the galaxy.'_

 _Yeah right, 'Savior of the Galaxy'. She couldn't save shit. Why the hell did they bother bringing her back to life in the first place?_ She forced herself to her feet and stumbled towards the bathroom.

 _I'm supposed to be dead... Why couldn't you just let me go in peace, I can't stop this slaughter. Didn't I suffer enough in my first life?_ That thought had her instinctively raise a hand to her face, fingers tracing out an intricate pattern, eyes lifting to the mirror. The glowing lines that stared back didn't faze her, although she knew it still disturbed some people. Frankly if her face freaked them out they were blessed with a sheltered existence, there were far worse horrors stalking the universe. Even so, on nights like this when she had time to think too much, the sight in the mirror raised questions and doubts she could do without. Her fingers crossed a smooth section of cheek, up towards an eye before veering off suddenly across her unblemished nose, mapping out a history of service that was no longer visible. The missing scars far more worrying than any number of new ones.

She turned off the running water, dipping her head into the almost full sink, the coldness making her gasp. Sometimes she wished she could just turn her mind off. Be able to do nothing, think nothing, just for a little while. Just long enough to recharge. She couldn't of course. There was only one thing she'd found so far that even came close to stilling her thoughts once they got this hectic, and it certainly didn't allow her body rest.

She pulled off yesterday's uniform, having fallen asleep still wearing it, and used it to pat her face dry. Putting on a sports bra and hoody, she grabbed a couple of hand wraps and left the cabin, winding the fabric methodically between her fingers and over her hands as the lift carried her down to deck 5. It wasn't as emptying or liberating as putting on battle armour but there were similarities. She could still feel the darkness in her chest but her mind was slightly calmer. She knew she hadn't won though, the fears and worries and all those other negative thoughts hadn't been beaten back or overcome, simply moved to lurk a level lower. Just like how they stayed hidden during the working day, building their strength and numbers for the assault on her spirit during the quiet hours.

The elevator door opened and she strode out, heading straight for the punchbag, a couple of quick stretches and then she was laying into it. Punch after punch landed with full force as the commander planted her feet and released her pent up frustrations. Six minutes later she paused gasping for breath and claiming a bottle of water. Pulling off her hoody, she rested just long enough for her breathing to slow before heading back to the punchbag. This time her actions were slower, less brutish and more precise as she rose up on the balls of her feet, dancing round the bag and concentrating on combos, letting her conscious mind empty of thought, fully focused on her breathing and the subtle shifts in her body as she flowed between various sequences of movement. Losing herself in one continuous moment of now.

...

 **Author's note:** This chapter wasn't originally planned but I was struggling to write the scene I wanted to put next and I realised it was at least in part because Shepard's extreme actions seemed to come out of nowhere. Most the scenes with her so far have been the careful image she puts forward for others to see and believe in. Sure there have been multiple cracks in the facade and Traynor's caught a few glimpses of the struggling woman underneath but they've very much been the tip of the iceberg, with a whole lot more going on underneath the surface that nobody can see. She died and was brought back to life two years later, that's an absolutely huge thing for somebody to deal with psychologically but, despite the occasional joke or inclusion in banter, my Shepard's never really talked about it properly with anyone. Sure Kelly was a psychiatrist, but she was also an idealistically naive Cerberus stooge that the commander would never allow to get inside her head. Add to that the fact that when she came back she suddenly had biotic powers and had to come to terms with that (mentioned briefly in the chapter 'Back2School', I have an explanation as to how it happened but am unsure if Shepard knows yet (probably not) and am still deciding whether to let Miranda tell her or for her to find out with the rest of the Lazarus videos on the Cerberus HQ mission. It's also possible Miranda told her in ME2 and she is simply unsure whether to believe it or not). She's done well in learning how to use the skills in battle and trained them to improve strength but still struggles sometimes to keep them under control outside of combat, remember most biotics would discover it as teenagers and spend years coming to terms with and mastering it. To top it all off the reapers are here and her massive Savior complex is in full effect, putting anything and everything before her own well being despite the negative effect it has to her health. An even more damaging impact when despite all her sacrifices she still can't save as many people as are dying.

The song "The Hammer has fallen" by Sabaton pretty much sums up her state of mind at the moment, both in this chapter and the one I was originally trying to write. I'm going to give the original chapter another go (it features Balak is the only clue you're getting) but if I still can't do it justice I might have to move on.

I'm also aware that the end of the last chapter had Traynor suggesting the commander get some sleep. This chapter being straight after is entirely coincidental so I'll let you decide for yourself whether she took that advice, ignored it and just happened to collapse from exhaustion anyway, or if in fact a few days have passed by unseen between chapters. Hope you're still enjoying this story and it's not too disjointed. Let me know if you have any thoughts or suggestions.


	19. Chapter 19

"Heat sink." The murmur came from somewhere behind and to the right of the specialist followed by a muffled snigger and hissed 'shh'. Meanwhile up on the big screen the salarian sidekick continued firing his guns full auto into the oncoming vorcha. Samantha usually hated people talking when she was watching a vid but this one was so awful that nothing could make it worse. She was fully regretting allowing herself to be pressured into being social during shore leave now. It had been fine at first, her small group wandering off to do some girly shopping. Then they'd started running into a couple of other groups, gradually merging into a behemoth of Alliance personnel on leave, suddenly it was a choice between going clubbing and drinking despite the early hour, or off to the cinema to catch the latest vid. She knew nothing about the vid in question other than it was marketed as a blockbuster to rival Blasto. Apparently there was nothing else to know, there certainly wasn't a plot.

"Heat sink." The call came again. The audience had been composed of a wide variety of species but apparently the Alliance wasn't the only military with people on shore leave as the mantra was soon picked up from all directions, a synchronised chant triggering at regular intervals as multiple groups joined in. A guffaw of laughter rippled through the crowd at a particularly over the top explosion and Samantha couldn't help smiling at the loud cheer that erupted when the protagonist finally reloaded a weapon.

"Oh come on! That's impossible!" The indignant retort was louder than any of the other interruptions so far, the same voice that had started the disruptions, and Traynor couldn't help feeling she aught to recognise it. When the speaker's companion answered in a quieter, teasing voice she suddenly knew **exactly** who she was sharing the cinema with.

"What, you saying you can't make that shot Garrus? Maybe I should get myself a new sniper."

"Oh **I** could make that shot, but that rifle couldn't. It's not got the range for starters and..." Samantha twisted round towards the sound unable to see the turian but noticing a soft orange glow at the very back of the room as the commander's scars, so faint in daylight, shone out dimly in the dark like an omni-tool on the lowest setting.

...

"Give it back Vakarian!" Traynor spun round to face the noise, struggling against the flow of people flooding out the cinema to see her C.O a short distance away, jumping up grasping wildly at thin air as Garrus held her omni-tool out of reach above his head.

"40 consecutive hours shore leave all crew, you said. No work, **no** exceptions. Your words."

"Dammit Garrus, that could be important."

"Well it's not the council and it's not a priority channel. I **know** you have different sounding notification alerts for those." The commander folded her arms and glared at what was rapidly becoming her former best friend as she tried to come up with an alternate tactic.

"What if it's my mother?" The turian nearly dropped the savant as he burst into laughter.

"Really Shepard, that's the best you can come up with? I'm insulted you'd think I'd fall for that. You couldn't come up with anything more imaginative? A long lost child or a secret lover..."

"I figured the dead mother calling was much more believable." Shepard shrugged, "It could be Tali..." Garrus shook his head but the amusement in his face suddenly vanished, mandibles flickering in annoyance as he looked over his friend's shoulder.

"Heads up, press." The commander instantly backed down at the warning. All thoughts of her omni-tool forgotten as she tried to navigate a way past the waiting cameras but it was too late.

"Commander! Commander Shepard!" A slew of questions came thick and fast: what was she doing here? Where had she been recently? What was happening with such and such? What did she think of so and so? A series of 'no comment' s with the occasional 'that's classified' was the only response as the spectre attempted to push her way through the crowd until one of the reporters finally changed tact.

"What did you think of the film? How can you justify enjoying yourself on the citadel while thousands of people are dying every second?" She clearly hit a nerve, the commander's whole body tensing and her fists clenching. Traynor stood in shock at the ridiculous questioning. It seemed she wasn't the only one to notice the situation, a group of marines detaching themselves from the crowd and heading over, but Shepard didn't wait for them to get there.

"Garrus, deal with this. I have **work** to do." Every ounce of the commander's not inconsiderable self-control was clearly put into restraining her fists as she twisted to one side and slipped away, pulling her hood up and disappearing into the swirling throng of people.

"Spirits, Shepard wait! **Shepard!** Dammit!" The turian turned on the reporter in righteous fury. "Do you have **any** idea how hard it is to get her to take a break for more than five fucking minutes!" The belated backup finally arrived, soldiers swamping the reporter, careful to keep their assault purely verbal in nature, granting Garrus the opportunity to fall back out of ear shot of the press. He fiddled with his omni-tool for a bit before cursing as he realised he still had Shepard's savant, their one link to the commander severed.

"Should we go find her?" The turian looked up in surprise appraising the approaching specialist briefly before recognition flashed across his eyes and he shook his head.

"No, Shepard would kill me if I pulled anyone off shore leave for a search party. Chances are she's wandering the streets looking for good deeds to perform. Don't worry, go enjoy yourself, the commander will be fine. She'll show up when she's ready." Samantha wasn't convinced he believed his own words but she could hardly argue with him. She nodded and began to walk away.

"Specialist Traynor?" She turned back round to face him. "If you do see her let me know."


	20. Chapter 20

The darkness and self loathing were back in full force as Shepard slipped among the crowds of the Citadel, barely even aware of where she was. That damn reporter was right, she shouldn't be wasting time on frivolities. She should be out there fighting, doing something, doing anything! How had she let herself be sidetracked in the first place? Oh yeah, Garrus. He'd said he wanted to catch a vid, do something 'normal' for a bit, claimed he used to go all the time with his father and sister when they were kids. Part of her had felt honored to be put in the same category as his family. She had still protested of course, there was far too much to do, but the unavoidable fact was it took time for the Normandy to resupply and Chakwas had already requested the commander grant everybody some shore leave next time they docked. Apparently the doctor was worried about the crew burning out, and while Shepard felt the woman had a tendency to exaggerate the severity of her injuries and impose ridiculous, unnecessary sanctions, she still trusted Karin's judgement when it came to other people. She wouldn't gamble needlessly with the wellbeing of her crew and if they were going to be stuck on the Citadel anyway... Well it would be nice to do something with Garrus other than kill things for a change.

She was broken from her soliloquy by the sound of someone calling her name, glancing around she realised she was by one of the smaller C-Sec outposts, the woman responsible for her return to the real world introduced herself as Jordan Noles and of course, she needed her help. _Everyone_ _ **always**_ _needed her help_.

"diplomatic codes... from back when they had an embassy" _Fucking politicians! Wait, what?_ Realising she'd fazed out during the majority of the officer's spiel she was about to ask her to send the details to her omni-tool when she remembered she didn't have it. _Shit now what? I can't just admit I wasn't paying attention, hang on: 'diplomatic codes' that means diplomatic immunity, privacy restrictions... perfect._

"I can access restricted intel from the Spectre offices, forward everything you have on the case to me there." This was probably going to be another of those stupid runaround missions, the kind that C-Sec really should be able to handle themselves, the kind that should really be beneath a Spectre. Still, it beat hanging around being bored. Anything was better than doing nothing she thought as she headed towards the embassies.

...

Traynor pulled away from her hug with Cortez in front of the memorial wall, allowing James to take a turn comforting their friend. It was the first time she'd been on the civilian docks, the Normandy having its own berth in the military sector, and the experience was overwhelming. She should have expected it really, they had been flying in and out of war zones across the galaxy for what sometimes felt like forever, and it was common (if they were on their way back to the citadel) for Shepard to fill the cargo hold with evacuees. It wasn't like she was ignorant or oblivious to the effects of the war, but to finally witness the sheer scale of it all, to get a glimpse of the bigger picture instead of multiple smaller vignettes, was heartrending.

She activated the camera on her omni-tool feeling slightly awkward as she recorded some of the scenes around her. It felt wrong, like an invasion of privacy, but she needed something solid to remind her during the long and exhausting shifts why they kept doing what they were doing. Steve was ready to leave now but Samantha was experiencing a whirl of emotions. Arranging to meet the boys for a drink later, she bade them farewell, wandering further into the docks and submerging herself in it all.

...

Shepard slunk through the refugee camp feeling useless, impotent to help the crowded masses. Asari, turian, human and salarian, they were all represented down here in the giant melting pot of fear and despair, but none more strongly than the batarians. Whichever direction she'd twist her head there was always a damn four-eyes in sight.

It had taken time, she'd admit, to get over the effects of Mindoir. To be able to see a batarian without her breathing going ragged, a cool trickle of sweat running down her spine as she flashed back to the worst day of her life. She'd learnt to hide it by the time she enlisted but surprisingly it had actually been Elysium that eventually helped matters. Technically Elysium had been attacked by pirates of multiple species, but as soon as she saw the first batarian emerge from the smoke her objectives were clear in her mind: don't let them repeat what happened at Mindoir, and take as many of the bastards with her as she could. The whole hero propaganda deal afterwards had been bullshit, she'd been scared shitless and just done what anybody else would do in a 'kill or be raped-tortured-and-forced-into-slavery-or-if-you're-lucky-killed' situation. The fact that she didn't get round to dying that time was purely chance. Chance and the barriers of two asari dancers she'd left the club with just after dawn in search of a little 'fun'. What they found wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but killing so many of the bastards cured her of her fear. She no longer needed to be afraid of what they might do to her when she knew she could kill them before they got the chance. Her hatred had taken slightly longer to overcome.

But that had been a long time ago. She'd had plenty more 'worse day of her life's since then. She'd been promoted and fast tracked for Interplanetary Combatives Training at the Villa and over the next couple of years kept getting invited back for higher grade courses, eventually even earning a commission. In between N-school and hospital visits, Alliance brass still found time to send her on innumerable combat drops. The Alliance's campaign of retribution for the Skyllian Blitz was in full swing and she had no problem being paid to kill batarians. Being Spec Ops meant she got sent on multi-specie training exercises and even the occasional joint combat mission. The old adage of shedding blood in the same mud held true and her respect for her fellow soldiers stopped her from becoming an out and out xenophobe like so many Alliance personnel who had lost family to non-humans in the years since first contact. Then one day a batarian saved her life. It had taken time to process, to convince herself that it had actually happened and without ulterior motive, but then the last of her hangups finally disappeared and she was able to stop thinking in terms of species and race. Sure she still **saw** race, it was a handy filter when describing and identifying potential suspects and targets, but she no longer let it be a determining feature of a person's individuality.

Shepard had developed and subscribed to a new, admittedly over-simplistic, view of the universe. The peoples of the galaxy were split simply between combatants and non-combatants, combatants were further split into enemies and allies, to be killed or fought alongside respectively. Non-combs were divided into normal people and arseholes and it was her job to protect as many of them as possible regardless of species, age, gender or other redundant categorization. Although she wasn't above punching the odd arsehole. She continued to kill batarian pirates and slavers with no regrets, but now she killed them solely for being pirates and slavers. It was a small but important distinction.

Then Arathot happened and now the sight of batarian's sickened her for a different reason. They symbolised her biggest failure. She hadn't just failed to save them, she had killed them herself. Not a bunch of slavers and pirates but woman and children, innocent people, all dead at her hands. Statistically she was humanity's biggest war criminal since the foundation of the System's Alliance. Sure she could blame it on the reapers, say it was **necessary** , but her actions that day hadn't made a difference. The reapers had still come, Earth had still fallen, billions were still suffering. The only difference was she'd compromised her morals and become a monster. There should have been another way.

One way or another, at some point she'd have to pay for Arathoht and the Bahak.

...

Traynor thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar red and white stripe weaving among the crowd and headed over to check. It was hard to get a decent line of sight among the throng but there was no mistaking the N7 hoody. The hood was covering the wearer's face but there was only what twenty? Maybe thirty humans out of the billions in the galaxy who were permitted to wear that logo. Then again there had been those knockoff N7 armour sets doing the rounds a couple of years back, what was stopping unscrupulous dealers from selling replica hoodies? She wanted to visually ID Shepard before informing Garrus. She followed as discreetly as possible, struggling to push herself through the mass of people who seemed to part almost subconsciously before the figure she was tailing. Samantha paused as the crowds suddenly ended without warning, a large clear space stretching out at the end of the docks. She watched as the N7 operative crouched at a terminal typing away, waiting for a sign that it was indeed her C.O.

Out of nowhere a batarian appeared, pointing a gun at the figure who rose up, hood falling down as she turned round. Shepard fell easily into a parade rest, hands hidden behind her back jumping instinctively to the savant on her wrist, _or not as the case may be_. Traynor's hands were already flying over her own tool as she typed a hurried message.

[Shepard, Dock E28. 1 Batarian w/ gun] She just had time to double check her omni-tool was still on silent before the turian's reply pinged through.

[On way. Stay out sight. If they move follow]

...

It bugged Traynor no end that she was so close and yet unable to know what was going on. Information and communication was supposed to be her specialty yet she had access to neither. If the commander had still had her omni-tool she could have rerouted the microphone to the audio output of her own and listened in... _Hang on, that's brilliant._ The two adversaries were relatively alone out there, a directional tech scan should identify the batarian's tool and she could hack it!

Samantha ducked behind a crate and set to work, mindful not to audibly voice her frustrations as she struggled with the hardware and software limitations of her personal omni-tool, missing the processing capabilities of her workstation onboard the Normandy. Fortunately the encryptions used by Batarian State Arms wasn't as high tech as what she usually had to crack from Cerberus and she was finally able to patch herself in, looking up from her screen in time to see Shepard make a grab for the batarian's gun. It wouldn't have surprised her if the spectre had casually disarmed the enemy with ease, but what she witnessed next left her shocked. Instead of simply using her quick reflexes to turn the tables Shepard put her head to the pistol, hand over the batarian's so he couldn't pull away as she looked him dead in the eyes. The words that came over her earpiece chilled the specialist to the bone.

"Then do it Balak. Take your vengeance. Set us both free."

...

On the outside Traynor's body froze but inside her mind was racing. Every member of the Alliance was given a minimum level of combat training and yearly refreshers on weapons handling, but they hadn't covered 'what to do when you're unarmed and your C.O has a gun to their head at point blank range' in basic. Even if she had a pistol it wouldn't do much good. Assuming she managed to hit the target without the heat sink continuing through and into the commander, the batarian's finger was on the trigger and death throes would set the weapon off, aka: dead Shepard. _Plus, still don't have a gun._ She could break cover, hope to distract the batarian, get his focus on her and hope the commander snapped out of it quick enough to save her. _Risky but looking like the best plan at the moment._ _ **Unless,**_ _the shock makes the batarian jump, pressure on trigger, dead Shepard, no-one to save me, dead me. Shit!_

 _Come on, I'm looking at this wrong! What do I have?_ Omni-tool. She could reverse the audio connection, speak through the batarian's omni-tool? _No, no,_ _ **no!**_ _Shock - Pressure - Death. Wait, shock? Shock! That thing Shepard did on her omni-tool in the wards, the disabling weapons one._ She pulled the extranet up on her tool, she didn't have a combat tailored model but a quick search, far more credits then she'd like ( _how much is life worth?_ ) and sorted, she just had to... [Remaining Download Time: 16 minutes] _**FUCK!**_

...

"What happened?" Garrus asked as he jogged up, casting a suspicious glance at the batarian limping away before turning his attention back to the two humans, just in time to catch his friend leveling a warning look at her subordinate.

"Nothing important." Shepard tried to walk off, back towards the dock exit, but the turian grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her motion. "Bumped into Balak that's all. Traynor helped defuse the situation. What little's left of the Batarian fleet is going to help us get vengeance against the Reapers. All taken care of, nothing to worry about."

"Balak? You mean Terra Nova Balak!? We just let him go? I thought the plan was to kill him if we ever saw him again."

"You want to kill me too Garrus?"

"What? No!" The turian recoiled back in shock, looking at his friend in confusion. "Why... How... What the hell's going on in your head Shepard?" For a moment it looked like the spectre would simply barge past without answering but she dropped her head, staring at the ground.

"I'm no better than Balak Garrus." She shrugged, Vakarian tried to stutter a protest but was cut off. "The only difference is I succeeded." The turian was quiet a moment, before he gently lifted the commander's chin forcing her into eye contact.

"The **difference** is that you didn't plan it. You made a split second decision between the impossible and the nauseatingly horrific. We always knew this would come down to ruthless calculus but you still want to save everyone... typical human." He smiled to assure them it wasn't an insult. "Turians are taught from birth. If just one survivor is left standing at the end of a war then the fight was worth it."

"Ah I'm not convinced Garrus. I think we're gonna need at least two survivors!" The commander joked suggestively, her face was back to its usual carefree mask, wry smile upon her lips, but the eyes told a different story; dark and haunting. "Unless the asari can bond with non-sentient life forms, I don't know, what do you think?"

"I think I need a drink to get that image out my head. You coming?"

"Nah I still got some things to take care of." He wanted to protest, drag her away and force her to take a break, stop her working herself into the ground but he didn't know how. His last attempt hadn't ended so well. Instead of protesting he offered:

"Want me to come along?"

"No thanks Garrus. Don't worry I just need to clear my head." He nodded, finally offering back the savant he'd taken from her so many hours ago.

"Well, call me if you need anything. And don't do anything I wouldn't do." The turian spared a glance at the specialist still lingering awkwardly in the background. She still seemed nervous despite Shepard's distraction and it finally clicked in his head that she wasn't afraid **of** the commander but **for** her. Shepard laughed drily.

"So launching a solo vigilante mission against the station's entire criminal population is still allowed. Good to know." He chuckled along with humanity's surviving spectre, falling into place beside her as she started to walk away.

"Allowed? Sure, but that just sounds selfish."

As they headed along the docks, bantering their way towards the exit, Garrus wondered just how long it would take for Shepard to realise she wasn't alone.

...

 **Author's Note** : Finally managed this scene, hope it didn't disappoint. I did warn you it was going to get dark. Apologies for completely skipping the bit where they get out of the stand off. It wasn't that I couldn't come up with anything but rather I had loads of ideas and couldn't decide between them.


	21. Chapter 21

The dark pulses of the music could be heard before Shepard even exited the elevator and only got louder as she entered the club. Her eyes scanned each room she went through, not just for the turian she was supposed to meet but also automatically taking note of potential threats, escape routes and defensible positions, as well as briefly lingering appreciatively over the dancers performing on the moving platforms.

"Hey Shep, fancy a drink?" Shepard recognised the voice immediately and proved it by thrusting her hand in the opposite direction to what intuition suggested, successfully catching hold of the Japanese beauty as she de-cloaked.

"Sorry Kasumi, I'm on duty."

You're always on duty Shep... even when you're supposed to be on leave."

"You been talkin' to Garrus?"

"You need to relax. Have a drink... Hell have a shag." The commander shook her head, eyes still casting about for her contact.

"Far too busy for that sort of thing."

"They're called one night stands for a reason. They don't have to take long." Sensing her friend wasn't going to give up any time soon and knowing she was straighter than a krogan charge to a buffet table, Shepard tried an alternate tactic to get her to drop it.

"You volunteering?" Kasumi didn't bat an eyelid.

"Sure, as your wing-woman. Look there." The commander's eyes carried out the order before she could stop herself, flicking up and down over the lady in question, checking her out. The thief had certainly chosen a stunner for her first assault but the spectre tore her gaze away with ease.

"No means no Goto."

"Of course it does, but you haven't even asked yet. I bet **she** won't say no." Shepard couldn't help chuckling as she shook her head.

"You're fighting a losing battle Kas, accept it." She clapped her good-naturedly on the shoulder before finally catching sight of the turian and heading towards his table.

"Naevius! I've got the banner of the 1st Regiment ready and waiting for you at bay D24..."

...

Shepard was preparing to leave when a brawl broke out in front of one of the bars a short distance away, and she thought she saw a familiar figure dart out from the centre and under a nearby table. Walking over, she ducked her head down.

"You alright under there?" A surprised yelp issued from beneath as Specialist Traynor spun round but she relaxed with a soppy drunken grin as she identified the mystery voice, gesturing for Shepard to join her on the floor, the commander accepting the invitation without hesitation. "You looking for something?"

"Only my dignity." Unable to resist, Shepard made an exaggerated show of looking around their makeshift hideout.

"Nope, can't see it here." Traynor punched her lightly on the arm in response, triggering a peal of laughter, but the specialist froze as her brain suddenly remembered who she was with and the circumstances of their last interaction. Shepard noticed the change, laughter evaporating, wondering uneasily if the other woman was going to bring it up.

"I'm surprised you're not out there fighting." Sam finally broke the tension, gesturing towards the growing maelstrom she'd escaped from, the soldier relaxing again slightly as the elephant of a subject is left alone.

"Too sober for bar fights. Besides, if I get involved the whole place'll go up in flames. Just imagine the press response: Commander Causes Colossal Carnage."

"Sober Spectre Stops Scrap."

"Nah, they'd never be that complimentary, Bosh'tet's Bar Brawl Backfires."

"Spectre Shepard Saves Sivilians"

"Civilian doesn't start with an S Traynor."

"Doesn't it? Hmm... Spectre Shaves Specialist. Shaves? Saves." The arm she had been gesticulating wildly with flopped limply onto the commander's shoulder.

"Can't handle your drink Traynor?" Shepard joked lightly before suddenly getting suspicious, she hadn't seemed this bad a moment ago, she tilted the specialist's head gently towards her to reveal unfocused eyes. "Shit, let's get you back to the Normandy, we need to get you to bed."

"Promises, promises."

"So you can sleep this off." She clarified in a tone that the Normandy crew had taken to referring to as the: "I'm officially wearing my commander hat so don't make me have to go find the damn hat" voice. _I said that_ _ **one**_ _time._ Standing up, the commander pulled Traynor with her, the other woman swayed on her feet but made it a fair distance under her own power before the staggering worried Shepard enough to hold her steady. They nearly made it to the exit with Shepard supporting her weight when a hand came down on her shoulder twisting her round.

"Hey what do you think you're... oh, **shit!** Sorry Commander! Didn't know that was you!"

"Joker?" Shepard overrided her instincts, fist stopping a couple of inches in front of her pilot's face before dropping her hands loosely to her sides. "Who did you think I was?"

"Some jerks were bothering Traynor earlier. EDI thinks one of them may have spiked her drink and James went all big brother on their ass." He nodded towards the remnants of the brawl, holding up a placating hand when Shepard took a step in that direction. "Don't worry it's all taken care off. Just, when I saw Sam leaving with someone... I got worried... didn't realise you were out tonight."

"I wasn't. Glad you're looking out for each other Joker, even gladder you didn't end up with any broken bones."

"Yeah probably wasn't my best plan ever." The pilot admitted ruefully.

"Alright, I'll get Traynor to med bay, ask EDI if she knows what drug it was and to send me the details." Joker snapped a wobbly salute and hobbled back towards the bar. _A salute from Joker? Now I_ _ **know**_ _my crew's wasted._ She turned back to her designated drunk, concerned over how quiet she'd been during the conversation, only to find the other woman staring at her ass. She shook her head with a slight smile, finding herself unable to think of anything appropriate to say considering the situation. Especially when she was guilty of the occasional unprofessional glance herself.

"Come on, let's go."

...

"You're mmi Knight in shhuh-neenn armour..." Shepard had grown tired of trying to direct the specialist's jelly-legged floundering and decided it would be quicker and easier to simply carry her back to the ship. Now she walked through the citadel with Samantha's arms wrapped round her neck, head pressed against her shoulder, as she reminded herself the apparently content specialist's behavior was drug induced, and that the sole reason she was the target was because she was the closest available person.

"Sorry Traynor, not wearing armour tonight." Shepard replied, focusing her thoughts on determining the most suitable punishment if she ever found out who had dared attempt to date rape a member of her crew. _They're going to wish they were never born._

"Yes you are." Traynor uncoordinatedly prodded at the commander's face distracting her from her mental retribution. "You've still got armour on up here. You hardly ever let it down... Did you... did you mean it on the docks?" Shepard stayed silent. Despite the sudden topic change she knew exactly what the specialist was on about. Apparently now they were in the open the elephant in the room had enough space to stretch, undoubtedly helped by the chemicals melting away Traynor's inhibitions and common sense filters. _Maybe I'll hunt down the suppliers as well, Chakwas did suggest I take up a hobby to help relax_.

"Come on, don't be all moody." She was being prodded again, it was getting annoying, if the specialist wasn't part of her crew she'd be tempted to break them. Those fingers were kind of important to the war effort though, certainly more helpful than the fucking council. "Talk with me Shepard..." _Fuck's sake! How many times? Sod it, it's not like she's going to remember any of this anyway, if it gets her to shut up and stop digging that damn finger in me._

"What do you want to talk about Traynor?" She sighed.

"Did you really want that batarian to shoot you?" There was no angry accusation in the question, no judgement, just a simple need for knowledge.

"I'm sorry, you weren't meant to see that."

"But if I hadn't, you'd be dead. You didn't answer the question, did you **want** to...do you..?" She trailed off and Shepard didn't respond at first, but then she felt the finger jabbing into her chest and shoulder again and sighed resignedly.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Her voice was low and she felt a swirl from the darkness inside her as it reared its head once more. The answer seemed to satisfy the specialist though, she nodded before shifting in the spectre's arms, gripping Shepard in a tight, comforting hug that took the soldier by surprise, temporarily freezing her to the spot. It also seemed to shock the thing inside her, halting its growth and making it shrink back down to its regular spot in her chest.

"Are you going to try again?" The question was muffled by her shoulder but the concern was clear.

"No, I don't think so..." Shepard's head was a swirl of strange thoughts and emotions she couldn't process as she flailed round for something familiar. "It was a moment of weakness, it won't happen again."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm fucking stubborn and I just said so!"

"I don't think it works like that..." Samantha sadly shared her insight.

"Course it fucking does. I said I'd stop Saren. I said I'd stop the Collectors and now I'm saying we're stopping this conversation!" Even in her current state Traynor could tell better than to argue. Silence reigned as they continued on their way. Just as the commander was starting to feel guilty for snapping, the specialist wrapped her in another hug.

"Thank you Shepard." She glanced down at the woman in her arms confused. "For talking to me... for trusting me..."

"Sorry to disappoint Traynor. The drugs they slipped you, you're not going to remember a thing about this when you wake up."

"Oh... Would you have talked if you thought I'd remember?" The commander smiled sadly down at her, wiping a strand of hair out the specialist's face.

"Not a chance."

"Oh..." There was silence for a moment. "You know, if you ever need to talk you can always drug me again." Shepard froze horrified, gazing down at Samantha speechless. The idea of not being in control of her own body or mind was a long held phobia, the thought of willingly giving someone else permission to take away that control... she shook her head with a shudder.

"Never." As they finally entered the docks Shepard wondered vaguely if she'd ever been more relieved to see the Normandy than at that moment.

...

 **Author's note:** Poor Sam just can't catch a break can she. I was in two minds about posting this chapter, it seemed a little forced and rather convenient but I wanted some sort of acknowledgment of the last chapter rather than just ignoring it (which appears to have been Shepard's preferred plan at the beginning, straight back to the same old cycle of behavior). At the same time I don't think Traynor's quite at the point where she'd be willing to force the conversation while sober, she might have the guts to bring it up, but she's still a subordinate and once Shepard starts pulling rank, getting defensive and possibly threatening, her self preservation instinct would kick in and she'd drop it. Anyway that's another shore leave over, back to the front in the next chapter, after all there **is** a war on!


	22. Dekuuna Days

The dense swathes of forest changed abruptly into vast rolling plains as the shuttle flew onwards towards it's destination. Small clusters of circles marked out the locations of villages and towns with plenty of space around the borders of each one in place of the sprawling metropolises so common on overcrowded homeworlds. The buildings soon morphed into tighter packed hexagonals as they reached the outskirts of Sereuun, one of the twin capital cities on Dekuuna. Fortunately (for them at least) it was Malvuon that seemed to be the current focus of the reaper's newly initiated invasion.

Cortez made sure to land the shuttle fully before opening the doors, reducing the squad's risk of broken bones as a result of a hasty jump down in the planet's much higher gravity. The team stepped out, weapons ready and started heading towards the objective. It wasn't long before the 4g started taking it's toll, the vitals monitoring system onboard the Normandy showing heart strain consistent with running despite the walking pace of the team, Vega was the first to voice his frustrations but Shepard didn't seem to have much sympathy.

"What's the point of all those pull-ups if you can't even walk through bloody 4g?"

"Hey my muscle's useful, it's just fucking heavy at the moment."

"Try having metal woven into your bones."

"Shit, sorry Commander I didn't..."

"Forget it, you couldn't know. Sorry for snapping James, I get angsty sometimes. Hell even I don't know half of what they did to me."

"You don't?"

"I know I didn't have biotics when I died..." The woman shrugged trying to appear nonchalant but it was obvious she was regretting starting the conversation. _Hundred credits says she's going to make a joke in the next two minutes_ Traynor thought from her position monitoring mission feeds in the CIC.

"And I'm fairly certain if I had a control chip or kill switch they'd have used it by now. Either that or the Illusive Man's busy typing away right now, desperately trying to remember the passcode." Nobody laughed. "Come on, let's do this before this planet turns to hell."

...

It had been quiet so far, the occasional red light in the distance the only sign of battle, although there was no way of knowing if that meant the reaper forces were beginning to get stretched thin or they simply considered this an easier conquest. Maybe the lower population count or smaller spread out nature of elcor settlements had resulted in different strategies from the reapers, regardless of the reasoning it made the ground team's job easier. A fenced off area caught the commander's eye and she paused, zooming in on it with a spare scope before noting down the coordinates and activating her comms.

"Cortez, I'm sending you the nav point of an old shipyard, get some engineers down there and see if it's possible to make anything spaceworthy out of what's left." Sam intercepted the info as it was sent, a quick extranet search on the co-ordinates gave her the business name and a couple of almost painfully simple hacks later she had access to security camera images and the latest inventory list for the yard, forwarding the data on to Cortez.

"Doesn't look like much is going to be salvageable Commander." Steve warned.

"I'm not expecting miracles Cortez, I just need to know we've tried everything we possibly can to help these people. Take a marine detachment with you as well, just in case."

"Copy that Commander."

...

They made it to the objective without a hitch. No-one wanted to jinx things by saying it out loud, but they all knew Zulu missions never went this smooth. The anticipation and apprehension only increased with every corner turned and room cleared without contact until finally they found it: The Code of the Ancients, exactly where they were told it would be. The squad fanned out without orders, covering the room's access points, backs to the commander as she approached the display case and entered the security codes provided by the elcor on the Citadel. It worked. No alarms or automated defense systems springing up on them as the case opened. Shepard activated her biotics, carefully lifting the large holy book into a protective case then into a duffel bag, the blue glow dissipating as she picked the duffel bag up the mundane way and swung it onto her shoulder, assault rifle back in her hands and at the ready, squad mates flowing wordlessly back into formation as she took point once more.

...

A couple of blocks into their return journey and they finally stumbled upon proof of the reaper invasion, a group of elcor civilians struggling against a swarm of husks. Children clustered against the side of a building while a semi-circle of adults formed a protective wall around them with their bodies, lashing out with their front legs in their only possible form of defense. One of the elcor looked ready to fall and it was clear the defenders wouldn't be able to plug the gap when it happened. The Normandy team took all this in at a glance, Garrus dropping to one knee with his sniper rifle scope pressed to his eye as the rest of the squad charged in to close the distance and join the fray.

"Relief, thank you human. We would not have lasted much longer." One of the elcor stepped forward as the last enemies died.

"Don't thank me yet, we've got more inbound." The commander nodded down the long road where faint movement could be seen in the distance and moved out to the centre of the wide street. "Garrus see if you can get on a roof, James, Liara there's not much cover but find something, we're holding this point."

Shepard cursed internally. Given a choice in urban combat she'd find a narrow alley to filter the enemy through, negating the advantage of increased numbers. Elcor architecture ruined that plan though, whether simply a practical effect of the specie's bulky frame or a cultural side effect of their history on the open plains, everything was ridiculously open and spacious even in the city. Similarly gaining a height advantage was a struggle, Garrus had entered the tallest building on the street and it was still only two stories high, practically a skyscraper by Dekuuna standards. It was a bad spot to defend but they didn't have time to scout ahead for a better one and she sure as hell wasn't going to leave the civilians behind. In her peripheral vision she saw a couple of the elcor get into position about 10 meters behind her squad, unable to wield small arms weaponry there was nothing they could do other than melee anything that got through the sparse line but still they were willing to give their lives if need be to provide extra time for their families. It was humbling, inspiring and heartbreaking all at once and the commander vowed that sacrifice would not come to pass, the reapers would not get past her line, glaring gaps in the defense or not.

...

Shepard switched to a pistol, thermal clips for her assault rifle having run dry, her hastily thought vow was in danger of being broken. Pity when it had been going so well. There was 5 meters of clear space in front of them and then a mound of husk corpses slowly being crushed under foot as wave after wave climbed over them. Liara's singularity had been invaluable in keeping a buffer zone between their defense and the enemy, but the asari was tiring. They were all tiring. The 4g gravity making even their guns four times heavier in their arms. Just as the commander was debating making a retreat she heard the roar of artillery and saw an explosion hit the reaper forces in front of her. A quick glance behind revealed three elcor soldiers, cannons strapped to their backs as they advanced up the road. Her squad renewed their efforts and with the reinforcement's extra firepower finally managed to halt the advance for good.

"Mildly suspicious gratitude, I don't know why you're here but..." The elcor on the left was suddenly cut off by the one in the middle.

"Shocked, Commander Shepard! Sincere apologies. Respectfully, Sergeant Daaltan, 12th Army. With..." The commander waved him off before he could get any further.

"As you were Sergeant. We need to get these civilians out of here, your people got any plans in place?"

"Regretfully, almost two thirds of our navy is already destroyed and most of the civilian ships already left. Disgusted, the Courts of Dekuuna and many richer citizens were evacuated but the ships weren't full when they left. With false cheer, our best hope is to hide out in the forests and launch guerilla attacks." _How the hell is anybody supposed to keep up moral when you explicitly state 'false cheer'?_

"I might be able to offer a bit more hope than that." The commander supplied as she activated her comm. "Control, status update. Where's my evac fleet?"

"First ships are entering range now Zulu. ETA 15 minutes."

"OK we're evacuating the city. The plains to the North are flat and open enough for most ship types so that's our LZ. We're not going to have much time before the reapers figure out what we're doing so any military you can raise to help with defense should rendezvous with us there." The sergeant signified his consent, about to turn away and carry out his orders when Shepard called him back.

"Oh and one last thing, try and remember that human and turian husks glow **blue**. If you see red light," the commander gestured to her face, "please check the stripe." She tapped the distinguishing element on the right arm of her armour.

"Appalled, That would indeed be awkward. I shall scan you now and add you as a friendly to the VI auto-targeting matrix. Uncertainly, I might be able to broadcast the update to the rest of my regiment." The commander nodded and stood still for the scan but didn't waste even that small portion of time as she continued to issue orders.

"Control, I'm going to need a supply drop. Fill up a shuttle, I'll trade you one priceless artifact for as much ammo as we can carry." _Way ahead of you Shepard,_ the specialist thought. _I've even arranged for a little something you haven't thought of yet._

"Greyhound Two is fully loaded and ready. Just waiting for coordinates ma'am."

...

"Traynor said you'd be needing them." Was shuttle pilot Neta's response to the commander's questioning raised eyebrow when she discovered the extra crate of 'not ammo'. The rest of Zulu squad didn't bother wasting time with questions, tearing apart the packaging, each holding a food bar in their non-dominant hand to eat while they continued to restock on supplies. Most of them having already consumed the majority of the energy bars they'd taken with them at the start of the mission, even the non-biotics had been burning through calories at an enhanced rate.

"Damn Shepard, I always thought intelligent mission control operators were against intergalactic law or something. Unfair advantage in a war zone, that sort of thing. How'd you get away with it?" Garrus asked as he pulled out another pouch of dextro rations, clearly marked and separated from the levo food to avoid potential mishap.

"Spectre remember, we're allowed to break the law. Using clever people is just one of the many dirty tactics I intend to take advantage of." Far above them the specialist allowed herself a self indulgent smile as she continued hacking local information and communication frequencies in order to inform the citizens of Sereuun about the evacuation.

...

Elcor soldiers lined the river bank, covering the bridge out of the city and they had more than enough personnel to loop the LZ in a protective ring. More troops mustered in the centre, waiting either to plug any gaps that appeared in the defense or to be evacuated to safety (or more likely, to a more strategic war zone). All marines serving onboard the Normandy were down on the ground. The LZ was secure. All they needed for an evacuation now was the ships and refugees.

"Zulu Actual, this is Control. A large number of civilians escorted by the remnants of the ninth army are cut off by heavy reaper forces, one click East of your position."

"Copy Control, are there any alternates for potential Landing Zones they can get to, we can divert some ships..."

"Negative. You remain closest viable. Only alternative is Five clicks South West of their position and they're surrounded in all directions."

"Copy Control. I'll open up a route, Zulu out."

"No. It'll spread our forces thin..." There was protests from the highest ranking elcor, despite the lack of emotive prefix the commander had little trouble deciphering the officer's tone and motives. It seemed as long as he was at the evac point the actual number of evacuees were unimportant. Shepard had already forgotten his name, although she could think of a few derogatory alternatives.

" **You** just need to hold the LZ and the bridge, **I'll** punch a way through to the ninth and get those people out." She was gratified to see Sergeant Daaltan step forward, offering to help, more soldiers behind him insubordinately volunteering their services.

...

"Horrified, What the hell is that?!" Their elcor support had been steadfast in the face of swarms of bipedal enemies but fear and panic threatened to set in as they got their first glimpse of what could happen to them. The usual blue glow and obvious cybernetic conversion common among all reaper ground troops was evident, and strange protrusions grew from the creatures' backs, molding over the mounted cannon, their face slats ripped apart into ghoulish tentacles. While the elcor troops struggled with the age old question of 'fight or flight', Zulu squad remained their usual self.

"Damn, it looks like a brute and a ravager had a baby!"

"And here I was thinking the reapers had just huskified some elcor."

"Mierda, what we gonna call that thing?"

"Seriously! You want to name it **now?** Let the P.O.G.s work out what to call it, we just gotta figure out the easiest way to kill them!"

...

Private Campbell hadn't seen her C.O in over five hours and it had to be getting close to half an hour since she last saw Sergeant MacArthur. The mad bugger had been charging off in the direction of an elcor husk at the time. They hadn't been hit with any artillery fire for awhile so she had to assume he'd been successful. It had been ages since she received any new orders, but then that last order had yet to be fully completed: 'keep them safe til the river's been crossed'.

She spared a glance behind her, no end in sight to the flood of refugees limping their way down the road. She wished they'd hurry up, she returned her attention to the fight. The commander had been as good as her word, punching a way through to the cut off ninth army and the civilians under their protection, clearing the main thoroughfare of reaper forces to provide a kilometer long corridor of safety, soldiers stationed at each junction tasked with preventing the reapers breaking back through. Zulu squad had then struck out on their own, fighting their way to small pockets of elcor and leading them back to the corridor to join up with the mass exodus.

Sarah knew all this from comm chatter, the sole interaction she had left with other human beings. She knew more than a few ships had already been filled and flown away. She knew at least one vessel, full of evacuees, had been shot down by reapers as it tried to leave. She knew... Damn it, she sure as hell knew her position was nearly overrun by husks. She ejected a thermal clip from her assault rifle and slotted a fresh one in with the practiced ease of hundreds of hours training. It took less than four seconds to reload but in that time she'd lost ground. For every husk she killed two more took it's place. She stumbled back and her leg twisted awkwardly as she landed on the ground, possibly broken. She would have cursed the high gravity but she knew not being injured wouldn't make much difference to things now so instead focused on unleashing her rifle upon the nearest husks. One of the creatures knocked it from her grasp and she finally knew with calm certainty as she lay there that the last thing she'd see in this life was those eery, soulless, pale blue eyes...

...

Campbell reopened her eyes in surprise, having felt rather than seen the wave of energy that had crashed over her and into her foes. For a moment she didn't know anything, her brain refusing to process what was happening as she watched the armoured figure standing between her and the enemy swarm. Then she saw the weapon knocked out of her commander's hands, the spectre not hesitating as she activated her omni-blade, dark energy swirling round her other fist as she ducked and weaved making liberal use of elbows, knees, head and pretty much every body part in between as she engaged the husks in close quarter combat.

The report of a sniper rifle rang out, a husk dropping dead mere inches away from Shepard on her blind side. Campbell's head finally cleared as she turned in the direction the shot came from, to see the rest of the commander's squad in the distance as they struggled to catch back up with their leader. Sarah dragged herself across the ground towards her fallen rifle, scooping it up and firing at the husks trying to flank Shepard on the far side.

...

"You alright?" The face that turned towards her glowed almost as much as the creatures that nearly killed her, the red almost scarier than the blue and Campbell was relieved, not for the first time, that the commander was on their side. In place of the dead, empty void present in a husk's eyes however, the commander's contained a steely determination tempered with a hint of concern as she helped the marine to her feet.

"Fine thanks Commander. You showed up just in time." Apparently she hadn't quite managed to hide the shock and awe from her voice as Garrus gave a chuckle behind her.

"Yeah she does that. Maybe one day she'll turn up **before** the nick of time." The spectre ignored her friend's jibe and pointed behind them to the still flowing tide of refugees.

"You best join the queue for evac." Campbell tried to protest that she was still fit for duty, a wry smile tugging at Shepard's mouth as she recognised a kindred spirit, but she didn't let sentimentality sway her. "That's an order Private."

...

"Zulu One, That's the last ship. Time to withdraw." Traynor informed her boss tiredly. The various Alliance marines and engineers active on the planet surface had already been recalled, Shepard's squad the last of the Normandy crew still ashore. They were ranged along the bridge leading to the LZ, holding up reaper ground forces to provide time for the remaining elcor soldiers who hadn't managed to get off world to scatter among the forests and grasslands.

"Come on Commander, we've got to go!" Joker practically yelled into the comms as he piloted the Normandy down onto the plains, opening up the cargo doors in preparation, but still the spectre didn't turn.

"Shepard," Liara's voice was quiet and sorrowful as she put a hand of the human's shoulder. "We've done all we can." The commander almost seemed to deflate slightly as she released a sigh.

"Yeah... I know." She signaled the retreat, following behind as her squad ran to the ship. Halfway there she caught sight of a familiar face and halted.

"Daaltan! You want a ride out of here?"

"Respectfully, Thanks Commander but I'd rather stay and fight." _Know that feeling, it's alright for some..._

"Call me Shepard, you've more than earned it." She passed over a pouch with what she had left of her ration packs and medigels. It wasn't much, barely even a token gesture, but it was all she could do right now. The sergeant seemed to accept it as an honour rather than an insult at least, giving her the elcor version of a salute, Shepard returning it with a salute of her own. "Give 'em hell for me."

It was like the escape from Earth all over again as she stood on the cargo bay ramp, watching the city burn, leaving behind far worthier soldiers to fight in her stead. _There is one difference though,_ she relented as she turned to head in, finding herself face to face with a hold packed with elcor. Their fear and desperation was clear to the commander but many of them insisted on thanking and congratulating her as she tried to force her way through the ship to her compulsory post mission nag, _err... I mean checkup_ , with Doctor Chakwas.

...

 **Author's note:**

I expect many of you may have already seen it but if you haven't check out AndrewRyanArt on Deviant art. He's done a series of pictures of reaper variations for other species in the game, the elcor version in particular is awesome and was one of the inspirations for choosing this particular scan and search mission to turn into a full chapter.


	23. Chapter 23

The mess was full as Privates Campbell and Westmoreland looked around for a place to sit, Specialist Traynor putting the finishing touches onto her own meal behind them. There was only one table with any empty chairs left and the surface was covered with a sprawl of datapads and a single lunch tray. The commander stood a couple of steps away in discussion with Dr T'soni.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to spend time finding out where to get a fossil, so you can clone an extinct species for the Krogan to **ride** into battle?" Liara's voice is tired and disbelieving.

" **Technically,** the salarians will be doing the cloning."

"Shepard..." An exasperated sigh.

"Come on Liara! You used to be an archeologist, aren't you even a little curious? When did you get so boring?"

"Firstly, yes I was an archeologist **not** a paleontologist, and second... I got 'boring' when the reapers invaded and I suddenly had a thousand more important things demanding my attention."

"Wait there's a war on!? Why did no-one tell me?" The asari doesn't even attempt to answer, sighing as she turns to head the short distance back to her quarters. She had been glad when the commander had started acting more like the old Shepard recently, but clearly she'd forgotten how infuriating that woman could be. She heard the commander shout after her: "Hey! It **is** a genuine war asset."

...

The commander returned to her seat, eyes doing a sweep of the mess hall as she picked up her fork. Noticing the three uncertain crew members and full hall, she gestured for them to join her, attempting to tidy up the datapads as they made their way over.

"Thanks Commander... What was that about?" Campbell nodded her head in Liara's direction as she sat down opposite Shepard, Westmoreland sitting beside the commander leaving the diagonal spot for Traynor.

"Oh, minor disagreement over the priority order for research topics. I probably shouldn't wind her up so much but it's so easy... and to think people call **me** a workaholic!" Her subordinates look at each other then back at their commander who's tower of datapads is now tall enough to hide her mouth and the tip of her nose, unable to stop the smiles spreading across their faces. Before any of them can make a quip EDI's voice rings out above them.

"Shepard, analysis of all ship conversations suggests only 2% of the people onboard have ever referred to you as a 'workaholic'. This is compared to 68% of crew who have called you 'insane'." Her table mates faces are wiped clean, glancing at each other in worry as they see their C.O's brow pucker, mentally cursing the AI and wondering if they are about to suffer from one of the commander's legendary mood swings. There is a slight edge to Shepard's otherwise neutral tone as she responds:

"EDI can you get in touch with Doctor Chakwas for me please. Inform her I am worried about the mental health of 32% of my crew." She nearly managed the whole request straight faced but started cracking at the end. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! ... **Your faces!** " The commander placed her stack of datapads on the floor enabling her fellow diners to finally see the wide grin plastered across her face.

...

"I don't suppose you feel like taking on an extra, completely optional, non-Alliance research task Traynor? You'd get brownie points!" Despite being her commanding officer and a spectre, entitling her to order anyone on the ship to do anything, Samantha got the feeling the offer really was optional, with no repercussions or even disappointment if she turned it down. Even so there could only be one response:

"That depends, do these brownie points convert into actual brownie cakes when we dock?" Shepard chuckled.

"Nice to know the fine tradition of having a mercenary aboard the Normandy still holds." The specialist blushed, about to retract her flippant remark but the commander kept talking. "I'm sure that can be arranged. Any other payment requests, merc?" A light smile played around the spectre's lips, one eyebrow raised questioningly, almost daringly. Traynor shook her head.

"What's the job?" Shepard's face and voice both returned to a strictly business default as she held out a datapad.

"I need to find the location of a Kakliosaur fossil well enough preserved to collect a DNA sample from."

"Dare I ask why?"

"Can you **imagine** Grunt's face when I tell him I got him a dinosaur!?" The commander's face was picture enough, an almost childlike joy and excitement shining through as she thought about the young krogan's response. Traynor suddenly realising it was the first time Grunt's name had been spoken since they dropped him off at Huerta Memorial. _So that's why she's perked up? He must have sent the email that made her laugh in the CIC. Amazing how much of a difference a slither of good news can bring._ "Err, I mean... The Krogan need... cavalry support, when fighting on toxic worlds..." _Forget the brownies, that face was reward enough,_ Traynor thought as she accepted the datapad and immediately set to work while she ate.

...

"How's the leg?" With the tech-head distracted the table's conversation had resorted to more macho topics, when talk reached the marines' part in the mission on Dekuuna, Shepard guiltily realised she hadn't asked about the soldier's wound since they sat down.

"Not too bad now. At least it got me off door duty for a bit." The private joked before suddenly remembering she was talking to her C.O. "Umm, not that I mind... I didn't mean..."

"Relax! Don't worry, I know how bad door duties can be. At least you get someone to talk to, back when I was a private I got two months solitary guard over an empty brig. Worse bit was there was a damn camera on me, not only was the detail completely unnecessary but every time I tried to relax I got bawled out."

"Didn't know you were a mustang ma'am" Westmoreland observed just as Campbell asked: "How'd you piss someone off bad enough to get that?"

"Well, er... I **might** have slept with someone who may or may not have turned out to be an Admiral's daughter."

"You didn't!"

"Hey I didn't know! Smoking hot lady walking around, says she's interested, clearly not Alliance so not breaking any regs, what's a Private 1st Class supposed to do? I thought she was one of the grunts sister or something. Plus she couldn't have been more my type if she was trying."

"Oh and what's your type?" Westmoreland asked, rank forgotten in the heat of juicy gossip.

"Well intelligence never hurts, a decent sense of humour, beauty of a goddess and a fantastic..." Shepard realised her eyes had involuntarily drifted over to the comm specialist and pulled them away, hoping nobody had noticed, "actually belay that last. Half the egyptian gods had really random animal heads. Plus, very jealous and vengeful. I've gone right off goddesses, word of advice, stick to mortal women... Or, men in your case."

"I thought you didn't study history?" Traynor asked, briefly looking up from her extranet search.

"Well now, there's history and there's mythology. I'll have you know there's a big difference! History is all family feuds and land grabs. Ancient politics with nobody having any civil rights and occasionally who invented what. Mythology is dragons and minotaurs and chimeras. It's all fantastic beasts and how to kill them, with the occasional horny goddess thrown in."

"Speaking of which..."

"Horny goddesses?"

"No, fantastic beasts." Traynor spun the datapad towards her commander victoriously. "I found you a Kakliosaur. Intai'Sei in the Phoenix system of the Argos Rho cluster."

"Nice work Traynor," Shepard smiled at the specialist before her face folded into a small frown of concentration. "Why do I know that name? Garrus!" She was speaking into her omni-tool now. "Intai'Sei why do I know it?" There was silence for a moment before the turian came back with:

"Isn't that where Pinnacle Station is?"

"Of course! That's where we won that house!" There was a snort on the other side of the comms.

" **You** won a house. All I got was my arm in a sling for 6 weeks." The rest of the table looked expectantly at the commander, hoping to hear the story.

"Courgette, Zucchini. Same difference." She shrugged casually.

"I'm just going to assume that means something to humans Shepard." The turian responded, although most of the crew listening seemed just as confused. Before she could respond a voice rang out across the tannoy system.

"Commander, Admiral Hackett is on the QEC." _Odd, I'm normally the one on duty to remind Shepard about her weekly meetings,_ the comm specialist thought, _it must be important if he's making an unscheduled call._ The commander was clearly thinking along the same lines, glancing briefly at her omni-tool to make sure she hadn't missed a day somewhere before rising. Lunch and datapads left abandoned as she set off for the elevator at a light jog.

"On my way!"


	24. Chapter 24

Specialist Traynor watched with interest as the five suited visitors entered the ship. She knew about quarians of course. Seen them in films and documentaries, read about them in books, knew their history and their reputation, but this was the first time she'd ever met one in person. She focused her attention back on her screen, not wanting to be caught staring. Accidentally insulting the leaders of the largest fleet in the galaxy was not on her to-do list for the day. She glanced back up as the four quarians passed her station and into the war room. _Hang on four? There was five a moment ago, where... Oh, no..._ She groaned as she caught sight of the final quarian emerging from the cockpit. _That's where EDI's body is_.

Shepard had apologised to the AI and asked if she could pretend to be a simple VI again 'just while the Admirals are onboard' and keep the mobile platform in the cockpit because 'you know how touchy they can get on the subject'. Traynor tried desperately to read the alien's body language as they approached, was it worried? angry? scared? Sam didn't think so but it was hard to tell through the suit and face plate, she was so preoccupied she didn't notice the elevator door slide open behind her until the quarian's posture changed.

"Mr Vakarian! Imagine seeing you here. I like the new paint job." A feminine voice called out. She(?) gestured to a wall and Traynor vaguely remembered seeing somebody scraping a Cerberus logo off it during her first day on the retrofits. It seemed like a lifetime ago. _Ohh, that must mean she's Shepard's quarian! What was her name?_

"Tali'Zorah, late as usual! Even Liara's back with us before you." The turian's voice was filled with a warmth reserved for his closest friends.

"What about the true blue, Alliance through and through bosh'tet?"

"Ash is dead Tali."

"What!? Keelah, I didn't mean... How's Shepard coping?"

"She's... being Shepard." The turian stated as if that covered everything, and perhaps in some ways it did. Tali tilted her head and Samantha assumed Garrus must have translated it into some sort of 'look' because after a brief pause he sighed and clarified. "Worse than with Kaiden."

"Keelah, I should have been here for her."

"You're here now, that's what matters. She's going to be so pleased to see you again. She hasn't said anything but I know she was worried about you. We didn't even know you were back with the fleet! I wish I could see her face when you walk in."

"You're not the only one, Joker practically begged me to take pictures, then he asked EDI instead. I think he's trying to arrange a betting pool..." She trailed off as her omni-tool lit up with a message. "I better get in there. We can talk later."

...

 _Of all the things that could go wrong with the ship it had to be something related to comms,_ Samantha thought as she crawled through the narrow access vents. Technically it should have been an engineer down here but none of them could fit without lifting up the floor grates, couldn't have their quarian guests thinking there's anything wrong with the ship. Besides she knew what she was doing, it would be a simple job once she got there. _Do Cerberus hire smaller engineers or is this design another bullet point on their list of evil._ She reached the correct panel and started unscrewing the cover when she heard footsteps approaching above her.

"EDI activate privacy mode please." Traynor froze at the commander's voice. She waited for EDI to inform her of the eavesdropping human below, but she merely confirmed the status change. The specialist knew there was no way she could back out quietly and was debating whether or not she should warn Shepard of her presence when the Spectre resumed speaking.

"I can't believe you're here Tali" she breathed. Traynor was surprised to hear actual emotion present and unrestrained in her voice as she closed the distance and grasped the quarian's hands.

"Tali? Oh, no I'm some other quarian, I just liked the look of this suit." Shepard actually laughed, Traynor could count on her fingers the amount of times Shepard had properly laugh laughed since she'd known her. Grunt's email and late night chess sessions included.

"Suit, no suit, different suit, I'd recognise you anywhere Tal. I just didn't expect to see you with the fleet."

"Technically I'm not. My exile was so public that..."

"Those good for nothing..." The quarian was interrupted by a barrage of swear words, Traynor was surprised to hear Krogan, Turian, Spanish, German, Quarian and Alliance Standard among the tirade of words, and that was just the languages she recognised. A blue glow building as the commander's biotics flared in anger.

"Shepard, you're swearing in Prothean again." Tali sounded more amused than scared and the light dissipated instantly.

"Sorry, it just pisses me off! Everything you've done for them, everything **they** did to you and then when they need help who do they turn to without so much as a pardon? I know they're your people Tali, but you're far too good for them."

"Wait a minute: court martial, threat of war, straight back into the fray with no apology... We are still talking about me right?"

"Oh like that is it? If I knew it was contagious I'd have never let you link suits with me." _Link suits? Isn't that... Are they..._

"Come on Shepard admit it."

"Yeah I know sis, I'm a hypocrite. Hypocrisy's my middle name."

"Commander [Redacted] Insanity Hypocrisy Danger Shepard. Hero of Elysium, Savior of the Citadel and Fishmonger of the Normandy."

"Ouch. You're still throwing that one around?" Even though she couldn't see her face Traynor could hear the smile in the commander's voice.

"You put dextro and levo fish together in the same tank Shepard! What did you think would happen?"

"OK, first off, I didn't know. I just chose the fish that looked the coolest, the shop didn't tell me they needed separate tanks. Second it never did me and Garrus any harm when we swapped blood."

"What!? Keelah Shepard, do you have any idea how dangerous that is... You both could have died! You two bosh'tets are as bad as each other. When? Why?"

"My last night of freedom. You remember how we decided to drink the ship dry before handing it over to the Alliance?"

"I remember. I don't remember any death pacts or blood rituals though."

"You wouldn't. You're a lightweight!" The commander snorted dismissively. "We'd already dumped you off in life support, uh... placed, I mean. Gently, with great care and affection..."

"So **that's** why... what was wrong with the observation lounge? Or the med bay?"

"Didn't want to risk waking Karin. We did ask EDI if you'd be safe there first, we were drunk not stupid!" It was the quarian's turn to snort.

"You mixed dextro and levo blood together inside your own bodies!"

"Well it would have been irresponsible to use someone else's body... Okay okay, drunk **and** stupid. Happy now?" The commander relented with a smile, hands held up in surrender. "Do you want to hear the story or not?" Traynor found herself nodding affirmative under the floor grates and stopped before she inadvertently revealed herself, fortunately Tali also voiced her agreement.

"So... Me, Garrus and Grunt were the last ones standing."

"Keelah, no... Tell me you didn't do it with Grunt as well?"

"Of course not. Big baby went to sleep when we were down to the last two bottles of purple. I don't understand why krogan are always such lightweights when it comes to booze." _She did_ _ **not**_ _just call the entire krogan species lightweights? How much can she drink?_ "Seriously, next time we're up against krogan mercs we should stop shooting and just challenge them to a drinking contest, it'd be much quicker! Less painful too. Anyway... One thing led to another, EDI kept vetoing all of our quite frankly awesome ideas and before you know it we're down to either blood brothers or matching tattoos. You know we'd both take a knife over a needle any day so..." She trailed off with a 'that's all there is to it' shrug.

"That's how Shepard, not why." There was silence as the commander leant against the table, head down studying her feet. "Come on, tell me why or I'll tell Karin what you did. Don't even **think** of saying 'it seemed like a good idea at the time'."

"It sounds stupid now. You're gonna think I'm crazy."

"Think? Shepard I **know** you're crazy! Doesn't stop me coming back to you every chance I get. We're air sisters remember, you made up the term. A mask for a mask."

"At least I let you wear yours." She grumbled in an attempt at deflection. Tali raised her hand to the clasps on her face plate, Shepard beside her in a flash as she realised her mistake, voice practically growling: " **Don't you dare**. This room's not clean." They remained locked in a staring contest, the commander relenting first as she let go of the quarian's wrist and backed up a few steps in defeat.

"Well you already know I was going to be tried for genocide Tali. The whole damn hegemony was baying for my blood and Hackett and Anderson were the only ones in the Alliance who stood behind me, who never once considered giving me up to avoid a war with the batarians. I just... I knew they were going to strip me of everything I ever had, everything I was. It sounds selfish but I wanted to have something they could never take away from me... and I needed to know... if the worst happened... I wanted a piece of me out there still, fighting." Sam felt a pang in her heart as the commander laid bare her reasonings. _Just how can she think that's selfish? That's, that's..._ "Anyway, I don't have fish anymore."

"That's not stupid at all Shepard." The quarian tried to reassure her but the spectre was focused on her conversation change.

"I did think about draining the water out the tanks, keeping lizards instead."

"Why didn't you?" This time Tali allowed the diversion. Despite pushing a moment ago she always seemed to know where the second line was. The one that **shouldn't** be crossed, as opposed to the first line of resistance that was merely where no-one else was willing to tread.

"Come on, I barely look after myself Tal! Besides they eat live insects, how am I supposed to get insects on a spaceship? Breed them in the other tank? I managed to kill fish! No more pets for me."

"What about Joker?" She teased.

"Ah I let EDI look after him now. She's much better at making sure he's fed and watered than I ever was."

"You trust that to a simple VI?" Shepard let loose another laugh.

"You got the memo then?" Her voice suddenly switched to concern. "She's got a mech body now as well by the way. You two still going to be OK?"

"I already saw. She's agreed to warn me first if she decides to overthrow humanity. The VI cover's a good idea though. Especially with those bosh'tets initiating another war with the geth."

"Don't remind me. Damn, I best get back to work. What's the odds that while we've been chatting the drell have declared war on the asari or the salarians decided to uplift the yahg?" Traynor's brain automatically started the arithmetic, by the time she'd figured out potential odds the room above her was clear once more.

...

 **Author's note:** You weren't originally going to get Shepard and Tali's reunion, it was going to go straight to the geth dreadnought mission, but a couple of ideas popped into my head and since people seem to like light Shep I thought I'd run with it. (That was light right? Mostly. Partly. Here and there.) Hope you liked that chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.


	25. Quarian Quests

The ground team were still suiting up in the cargo hold as Traynor set up the comm channel and vitals monitoring system and she was surprised to see a slightly higher than normal pre-mission reading for the commander's breathing and heart rates.

"Seriously Lola you've checked those seals like eight times now, they're fine!" Vega's voice was audible as background noise from the rest of the team's mics even though he wasn't plugged in to the channel personally.

"Leave her alone Vega!" The turian's voice was dangerous, warning, but his eyes were apprehensive. He shared a worried glance with Tali before turning his full attention to the commander. "You ready Shepard?"

"Let's get on with it."

The words were inconspicuous, a perfectly acceptable choice of phrasing for the context. The tone of voice was positive. Anybody else saying it and Traynor wouldn't have thought twice. Instead her brain went into overdrive as the words stuck in her ears. _Something's wrong. That's not what Shepard says_. Every mission since she'd joined the Normandy had always been kickstarted by the same phrase: Let's do this. 'Right, let's do this!' , 'Come on, let's do this!' or on one memorable occasion: 'What the fuck are they doing? **Bloody hell!** LET'S DO THIS!"

The elevator doors opened behind her and the commander strode out flanked by Garrus and Tali. Outwardly Shepard looked fine. If you recorded her and played the footage back, Samantha doubted she'd have noticed anything wrong. But that subtle aura, that feeling of calm confidence that always seemed to subconsciously radiate off the commander when she was in armour, was missing. Traynor couldn't see the commander's face, obscured as it was behind a helmet, but the feeds showed her vitals rising as she approached the cockpit.

"Stealth drive engaged. Only way they'll detect us is if you all start singing the Russian national anthem." Joker's voice came through over the commander's mic rather than through his own, private banter rather than a mission communicative. Shepard stepped away towards the airlock in readiness, heart pounding and ears ringing.

' _Stealth systems are engaged there's no way the geth...' "It's not the geth!"_ She shook her head, blinking the memories away.

...

"Tube's too risky for the whole team. I'll secure the docking area. Everyone else can follow me over."

"Roger that Commander. We'll just stay here, you know, quietly."

"Hang tight. It'll just be a minute." The commander stepped out the airlock into the beat up docking tube. The steady clunk-clunk of mag-boots on metal marking her progress. Turning to avoid an obstruction the view outside became visible; explosions and stars and debris... She froze, trying to concentrate on deep controlling breathes, but _the oxygen's running out, suit's been breached and she struggles to fill her lungs..._

Onboard the Normandy, Traynor stares at her screens as the commander's vital signs go haywire. She switches to the video feeds and sees Shepard just standing there, completely immobile.

"Hey take your time Commander. We're fine. Until they, you know, look out a window." _Bloody hell Moreau, that's not going to help!_ She's no psychologist, no doctor, and she doesn't have the slightest clue why this is happening, but no-one else seems to be doing anything. Attempting to keep her voice calm and panic free Sam activates her comm.

"Commander are you alright out there?" No response. _Stupid question, it's clear she's not alright. Bet she would still have said 'fine' if she did answer though._ "Shepard can you hear me?" There's a pause, but something about the voice drags the soldier's mind back.

"Traynor? Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Sure Commander. Analyse data and make sure the right people get the information they need. This can just about count under my job description. Do you remember what you told me before Palaven? About breathing and training? Think it's practice what you preach time."

"I've been doing little else **but** focus on breathing, don't think it's working!" Shepard snapped in frustration.

"Well, I think you've got the hang of the in and out bit. Now you just need to slow it down..."

"Don't suppose you can think of a decent distraction instead?"

"Joker won't tell me the words to the Russian national anthem." The quip rolled easily off her tongue, a mild snort of potential amusement heard the other end of the line.

"Why not try the Canadian or German anthem instead?" The numbers on the monitors start dropping ever so slightly. "Wait, you went to Oxford didn't you? How about the British national anthem."

"Oh you need to get me drunk before I'm singing **anything**! Particularly in the CIC." The specialist keeps her eyes focused on the commander's vital signs on the screen. Still not within 'normal' readings but a lot lower than they had been. She decides to risk it, "and for that to happen you're going to have to move from there." There's a slight spike in the readings but it settles quickly.

"Want to make it into a drinking game Traynor? One shot for every step I take, see if I make it to the other side before you start singing?"

"Only if coffee shots count Commander, I am on duty after all."

"Damn regs, take all the fun out of life..." A clunk comes over the comm, then another as Shepard finally starts to walk forward once more. Irregular at first, the noise from the mag-boots soon evens out into a steady rhythm but the breath and heart rate figures continue to fluctuate. Before Samantha can think of something to say Shepard's voice comes steady and collected through her earpiece.

"Traynor? Pawn to g4." It takes a split second for her to work out, _distraction_.

"Really Commander, Grob's Attack? You're sure? "

"Hey, I've just got the hang of this whole letters and numbers business, don't start throwing words at me! It's a legal move."

"Fine. e5"

"Who comes up with these names anyway? 'Grob's Attack' sounds like a 20th century B-movie. Or something a Krogan would do." Once again the stats slowly decrease as the body takes care of itself now that the damaging influence of a brain has been diverted elsewhere.

"That's not a bad description actually. Exactly the kind of move a krogan would make. Hey that reminds me of a joke... What's the difference between Commander Shepard and a krogan? One is an unstoppable juggernaut of head-butting destruction..."

"and the other's not allowed their own ship with high powered weaponry and a smart-assed comm officer onboard. b3"

"Ooh, personal remarks AND a demilitarization reference, nasty! That's even better than the number-of-testicles punchline. Wait, b3... The pawn? Do you even have a plan or are you just saying random grid references?"

"Hey I'm Commander Shepard, I always have a plan! Garrus, what's our default contingency plan?"

"Err, pacify anything that shoots at us?" The turian's surprise at being pulled into the conversation was nothing compared to the specialist's shock at the reminder they'd been talking over the main mission comms and could be heard by the whole away team, plus selected ship-side crew members.

"See Traynor, always got a plan. Just so you know, the plan is to see how yo..." a grating noise cuts through the comms, Shepard jumping as the tunnel floor falls away. Her voice is all business when she speaks again. "Looks like the rest of the team isn't using the docking tube."

"So I'm guessing you'd rather not solo the dreadnought?"

"Not if I can help it... Not saying I couldn't! But I think the poor doc would have a heart-attack. Ask Tali to get on the schematics, if she can point me at another docking station I'll override the controls and let the rest of the team on."

Samantha stayed silent as Tali took over the comms, first giving Shepard directions and then staying on the line discussing quarian tactics and politics. Eventually she ran out of things to say and the channel fell silent again.

"So Traynor, b3 you got a come back yet?"

"d5"

"d3"

"bishop captures pawn g4"

"When did I put a pawn on g4?"

"Uhh, first move of the game Commander remember?"

"Damn! Are you writing these down or have you got a little chess board app open on one of your... Hang on, I've found the airlock."

...

"Thank you for having me over." The quarian quipped lightly as Shepard helped pull her up, acting for all the world like the events during the commander's tube walk had never happened. "We were beginning to think you might actually decide to solo it after all."

"I'm not **that** selfish to hog all the fun, besides... I don't actually know where I'm going." Shepard admitted casually. "I'm used to just navigating by gunfire."

"Any problems?" Garrus asked as he climbed up the ladder to join them. A carefully worded segue that could be taken in multiple ways.

"No sign of any geth yet." The commander deflected the real question while pretending to answer.

"Don't worry I'm sure we'll find something to shoot soon, and I'll have your back every step of the way."

"In the meantime, here... Check out Admiral Xen's new prototype." Shepard picked up the pistol, testing it's weight in her hand and examining it as best she could without actually firing it and risking alerting their presence to the enemy, articulating her approval of the weapon while Vakarian vocalised his disappointment in there only being the one.

...

Traynor set up an alert on the monitoring system to inform her if the commander's life signs went haywire again, before engrossing herself back into the multitude of jobs she had to deal with. Missions against the geth were certainly more challenging for someone in her field, her hacking and programming skills put to the ultimate test against the sentient machines. Bizarrely the commander seemed to relax once enemy contact was made, vitals finally leveling out to 'normal'. Traynor wished her own heart rate would slow but it was hard with some of the things she was overhearing on the team chatter.

"Just like old times eh Garrus?"

"Actually, I think running through a giant gun while it's about to fire might be a first Shepard."

"I meant the geth, budalla."

"Shepard! Did you have to? I just hacked that one."

"Sorry Tali... Hang on what do you mean 'just'? Are you getting slow in your old age?"

"Reaper code's completely changed the geth's software, I'm having to write completely new programmes and **someone** keeps destroying things before I have a chance to test it."

"You should have said something, I'm sure I could manage to not kill anything for a couple of minutes." A huge explosion sounded over Traynor's earpiece, "Umm... maybe..."

...

"Shepard-Commander help us." There was a moment of panic as the synthetic voice sounded in the specialist's ear, but a quick check of the systems showed no breach in security and she realised the geth was speaking directly and physically to Zulu squad rather than by hacking the comms.

"Legion?" There was disbelief in the commander's voice, a feeling only briefly shared by Traynor. _Of course Shepard's on first name basis with a geth. Why wouldn't she be?_ "No, you can't be. Legion died. What are you?" Certainty grew stronger in her voice with each spoken word, ending in a forceful demand.

"We are geth. This unit is a holographic reconstruction of a unique intelligence network. When those..." Traynor allowed the conversation to fade into the background of her awareness as she focused on her work. EDI was more than capable of managing the ship's cyberwarfare suites herself in most situations, but any tasks completed by organic crew mates left her with greater processing power free to react more effectively as unpredictable situations arose. She also claimed to enjoy working as part of a team and to have gained access to new strategies and approaches to problems that she wouldn't necessarily have thought of herself as a result of observing the crew's way of doing things.

Samantha noticed movement on the CIC's central holographic display, the dots representing quarian ships joining up in formation and moving off... _That's the wrong direction! What are they doing?_ She tapped into the quarian fleet's comms and was greeted to the sound of a full blown argument, Admiral Gerrel refusing to back down over his intent to attack the dreadnought. _But Shepard's still on board!_

"Zulu actual, I'm sorry but you need to hear this." She forwarded the audio feed, hoping it wouldn't distract the commander too much from her ongoing firefight. "What do you want us to do?"

"Disengage and retreat to outside the war zone, we'll rendezvous with you when we can." Basic training had drummed into her the need to follow orders but she'd never disagreed with one as much as this in the past. Before she could protest Joker beat her to it.

"We can come in and pick you up."

"Negative, we're still in deep, it's going to take time for us to evac. Time you'd be under fire from the entire Quarian Navy. Don't you dare disobey me on this one Joker, disengage and await further orders. I'm not losing another Normandy!"

...

"Shepard to fleet. Hold fire! I repeat hold fire" Explosions rocked through the geth ship as they ran in the direction highlighted by their new synthetic ally.

"They're not responding"

"Quarian bastards!"

"Come on, double time people."

"Hurry, we're losing the environmental fields!"

A particularly large explosion correlated with a huge spike in the commander's vitals, warning signals activating for the first time since Traynor set up the alarm system.

"Zulu, you okay over there? I'm reading a loss of gravity."

"Fucking peachy Control. We're leaving in a geth fighter. Transmitting rendezvous coordinates. You better have those admirals in the war room by the time I get there. We need to talk."

...

"She's all your's Cortez!" The commander jumped down from the geth fighter, helmet already in her hand having ripped it off as soon as they'd entered the safety of the shuttle bay. She resisted the urge to throw it across the room. "Take whoever you need and work with EDI, make sure it's safe before we send it off to Hackett." She didn't even wait for confirmation before turning to the rest of her squad as they disembarked from their escape craft.

"Garrus, Tali I want you both checked over and given the all clear by Chakwas. You... Geth" _Really need to get it to pick a name._ "Your platform may physically move around the ship but any unauthorised attempts at interfacing with ship features or functions will be considered a hostile act. For the moment I'm the only one who can grant you authorisation and privileges. Give me a couple of minutes to warn the quarians about you then meet me in the war room. Actually Garrus, you best escort it. I don't want to panic the crew."

...

"And what of Shepard and Tali'Zorah?" The admirals' raised voices were already audible as she made her way along the corridor.

"One human and an exile, a small price to pay for the home world." Shepard thought she'd managed to bury her anger on the ride over, but that slur against her sister brought it bubbling back towards the surface. "Besides, they escaped unharmed!"

"Alliance out!" The order echoed through the room as soon as the final door opened, silence falling as her crew filed out.

"Shepard, the mission parameters changed. You're military you understand that."

"I understand that you wasted your chance to withdraw safely!" She was fighting so hard to keep professional, not let her anger out on these bosh'tets. They might not be Alliance but they were still admirals. _Respect the rank, not the person_ she recited over and over in her mind.

"The Dreadnought was the perfect target! ... If you could retake Earth with a little friendly fire, you'd do it in a heartbeat!" The commander's fist snaked out without warning, hitting Gerrel in the gut.

"Don't you **dare** presume what I would or wouldn't do. This isn't just about a 'little friendly fire'. The mission objectives were clear: get your civilians to safety. So why the hell are they still being butchered out there? You jeopardized your mission and your people Admiral. What's worse you jeopardized mine! And for what? A place in the history books? Every civilian death from this moment onwards is on your head. Now get the hell off my ship and be thankful you're still breathing!"

...

Traynor watched the altercation on her screen, wondering if Shepard knew the mission camera on her armour was still on. She closed the window when the commander entered security screening and appeared fully focused on work by the time the spectre strode past to glare at the galaxy map, zooming in on Rannoch. Hundreds of dots of light flashed randomly across the planet. Distress beacons.

"EDI, is Rannoch's atmosphere breathable for humans? Good. See if you can narrow down a location for Zaal'Koris for me please... he was on the Qwib-Qwib when it went down... Anything, right now I don't even know which continent to search." Shepard turned away from the display, muttering as she navigated her way down the steps. "Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài, Gerrel."

"What language was that Commander?" Apparently the specialist's curiosity seemed to know no bounds and quite possibly possessed a death wish. Fortunately Shepard merely paused, turning towards her with a thoughtful expression before responding:

"Chinese I think."

"You speak Chinese?" She was rewarded with a faint smile.

"Not exactly no. I can swear creatively in over 86 languages but I'm only remotely close to fluent in four." _Well she's not ripped into you for wasting her time on trivialities yet._

"Which four?"

"Alliance Standard, Turian common, Batarian hege and Prothean... You can blame Eden Prime for that last one." Turian made sense as well, they were humanity's first alien enemy and now their biggest allies and remained a common choice among ICT graduates for their compulsory non-Alliance language course. Asari was a close second although many who passed through the Villa joked that candidates chose Asari for improved flirting rather than tactical military reasons.

"and Batarian?"

"Blame the Blitz. If your translator gets fried by a tech attack you want to know what orders the enemy's shouting out. Also useful when interrogating prisoners or if you get captured. If you ever hear the phrase kalak'domb you want to escape quick or die trying... Speaking of batarian prisons, can you get me Hackett on the QEC please." Even Sam's curiosity didn't want to know what linked those two thoughts together in the spectre's head.

...

Approximately 20 minutes later the commander was once again standing at her platform in the CIC, conversing primarily with EDI but also issuing orders out to other parts of the ship. She paused as a message came through from Doctor Chakwas.

[Commander, Tali and Garrus are both fully cleared for duty. I'd appreciate it if you could come in for a check up before the end of the day as well please.]She took a final look at the holographic display and made up her mind, activating comms.

"Hey Tali, want to go for a walk on Rannoch? We can kill some geth, save an Admiral..."

"Which one?"

"Zaal'Koris"

"Sure. I'd love to." Shepard chuckles but brings it under control before hitting the button to answer again.

"Why do I get the feeling if I'd said Xen or Gerrel you'd be busy cleaning your filters." Traynor is making frantic gestures but Shepard ignores her, certain she already knows what the comm specialist wants to say.

"Shepard! I'm a good quarian..." Tali's voice is light and playful, a barely repressed chuckle still audible.

"Of course you are... and I expect proper suit maintenance from all my quarians."

"Pfft Shepard, did you pick up another pilgrim while I was gone? I thought I was special." The pair of them can hardly hold back their laughter, mirth highly evident in their voices as they banter back and forth. Glancing round Traynor glimpses smiles on a few of the Alliance crew working in the CIC.

"Alright 'Vas Normandy', head down to the shuttle bay I'll meet you there. Don't forget your shotgun." The commander turned the comms off, turning towards the specialist with a grin plastered across her face. When she speaks false innocence drips through her voice, "yes Traynor?"

"Umm... you know that was the tannoy button right? That conversation was heard by the entire ship." Shepard's smile grows even bigger.

"I know."

"You kne... But... the quarian admirals are still onboard! They would have..." Shepard's face is in danger of splitting open if her grin continues to grow any more.

"It was only the Normandy. Not like I broadcast it to the entire fleet." She turned on her heel, heading towards the elevator, leaving a bemused specialist in her wake. _Today is going to be a long day..._

...

 **Translations**

budalla - Albanian: stupid

Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài - Chinese: Fuck your ancestors to the eighteenth generation. A particularly fitting curse when dealing with quarians who have ancestor worship.

kalak'domb - Made up batarian: brain control chip.


	26. Chapter 26

Shepard's hands were shaking as she tried to line the pieces up. _This was supposed to be calming dammit!_ The small, intricate models with all their fiddly pieces was supposed to require focus, forcing her brain to concentrate on a specific, localised problem and then experiencing a sense of accomplishment when the model was complete. At least, that's what she'd been told. It had sort of worked in the past. When she'd spent too many nights in a row in the war room, enough for someone to notice and tell her to go get some rest, she'd come up and work on the models, passing the time until she could get away with leaving her cabin to get on with something useful once more. Avoiding sleep had enabled her to build quite the fleet.

Her hands trembled once more, her breathing fluctuating as her mind pulled her against her will, back into that moment. _Stars all around, more blocked from her peripheral vision only by her helmet. Air cold as ice. Breath frantic and laboured as the oxygen runs low..._

She threw the incomplete model across the desk, clenching her fists so tight her short fingernails dig into her palms, trying to ground herself in reality. _This is ridiculous_. She shouldn't be thinking of this. Sure, there was a moment earlier on the way to the geth ship. That was understandable. She had been alone in the void, nothing between her and the vacuum of space but her hard suit. Peripheral vision blocked by a helmet once more. **Anyone** would have had flashbacks at that. But she'd pulled through. Finished the mission and went on to the next one. She'd been fine on Rannoch. Not fine like people asking if she's OK fine, but actually fine. Better than fine. Good. In the zone. What the hell was her brain playing at? She was Commander _Bloody_ Shepard. The galaxy needed her. She couldn't just sit here like... like... She needed a distraction.

A glance around the cabin didn't offer much inspiration. Her gaze falling back on the models. Building them clearly wasn't working but... the display case between her desk and bed was full, the case on her right containing only a solitary ship. It looked lonely. She started pulling models off the stand, repositioning them on the other wall.

A geth cruiser, _last time I looked out a window they were firing at us_ *move*. The Destiny Ascension, _lost in the Battle of the Citadel_ *move*. Sovereign, _hell even if it wasn't destroyed it certainly wouldn't be on our side_. *move*. After a few minutes of reordering she looked at the much smaller model fleet, able to see large chunks of the other side of the room unimpeded. It made for a somewhat depressing visual representation of war assets. _Next time we dock I'll have to look for a model Volus bomber, we've got some of those._

The distraction had worked but was far too brief. She considered repositioning them again: alphabetical order, size order, chronologically according to date built, numerically according to each models' catalog product code. It would be futile, much better to just go down to the war room and do something useful.

She pulled up the ship's schematics with real time crew locators. There should have been a shift change in the war room by now. She cursed under her breath as she saw Admiral Raan still there. _Doesn't she have her own ship? Just because the Normandy's the best vessel in the galaxy doesn't mean everyone has to try and stay on it!_

Some deep, hidden, childish recess of her brain briefly contemplates setting a course for another star cluster, imagining the Admiral's reaction when she realises she's no longer with her fleet. Feigning ignorance that she was still aboard; " _I'm sorry, I thought you'd gone back to the Tonbay_." The smile fades from her face as she remembers Hackett's words: 'We **need** the quarian fleet'. Hopefully punching Gerrel had been counterweighted by saving Koris, but she was running out of admirals and hated to think what she'd have to do for Xen to make it up if she kidnapped Raan.

She searched the rest of the ship on her tool, hopeful that maybe Vega or Garrus were hosting another Skyllian Five tournament she could crash, but they were both asleep in different locations. Liara was nearly as bad at resting as her, maybe she could convince the asari to let her share the workload. _And if Liara tries to tell me to take a break from work I can force her to stop being hypocritical and take some downtime too. A win-win situation, perfect plan... Damn it! How? How is that bitch asleep? She's never asleep!_

She smiles as a single ID awake in the mess catches her attention. _Of course. Why didn't I think of her before?_ She'd been craving a diversion and there she was, the Queen of distraction herself. She opens a voice chat via omni-tool.

"Traynor, don't you ever sleep?"

...

Samantha had managed almost 4 hours of sleep earlier that night before the nightmares of Horizon pushed their way through. Now she sat with a cup of tea in the empty mess hall watching old Earth TV shows that had been remastered to holovid. She had a particular fondness for sci-fi shows from before first contact. She loved seeing the imagination at work, how close or absurdly far humanity's ideas of aliens were before they knew the truth. Most of the time even the originally serious shows were a great source of comedy. Nowadays a show featuring aliens was just as likely to be a soap opera as it was sci-fi. They were even rapidly reaching the point where they could accurately appear in human made historical dramas. Her thoughts were interrupted by a bleep on her omni-tool.

"don't you ever sleep?" _Pot, kettle much?_ Traynor thought as she subconsciously analysed the commander's tone and wording. It had been something of a roller-coaster day as far as the commander's mood was concerned but it sounded safe, she went for light banter.

"Sleep is for tortoises." A chuckle the other end indicated she'd made a good choice.

"Tortoises? I don't think I've heard that one before. I'm just glad you didn't say 'for the dead'. We're the only off-duty personnel still up, I'd hate to think the Normandy was being staffed by zombies."

"Don't worry you're the only undead onboard." She closed her eyes with a grimace as her ears processed the words that had left her mouth. A long silence stretching out ominously over the comm. _Wake up brain, whatever happened to the self-preservation instinct? How do these comments always slip through. Damn sleep deprivation_. A click as the other side of the comm finally switches back on.

"Touché Traynor, touché." The specialist lets out a relieved sigh and resumes breathing. "So, doing anything interesting?"

"Umm, **not** sleeping..." She wonders if the commander will prod further, feeling oddly defensive about her choice in entertainment should questions arise.

"Fair enough... If you're not doing anything I've got a few hours free. If you'd like to come up, maybe finish that chess game from earlier?" Samantha's brain shot out in a hundred different directions at once. "Err, that's not a trick question by the way. You can say no without having to tell me what you're up to."

"NO! I mean yes! Umm... I'm on my way up."

...

"Your cabin is gorgeous. I've seen apartments smaller than this."

"Why the surprise Traynor? I mean, it's true but, haven't you been up here before?"

"Well yes, but I was a bit busy being awestruck over being in the presence of the 'Great Commander Shepard' to pay much attention to your room!"

"Are you saying I'm no longer awe inspiring?" Shepard tried to affect a hurt look on her face, but the teasing lilt of her voice gave her away.

"No, not saying that. It's just that I've not had as many chances to look appreciatively at your cabin as I have you." The specialist blushed at her own traitorous wording, turning her back on the commander. As she stepped away she triggered the motion sensor for the bathroom, door sliding open, she glanced inside.

"Oh an actual shower. The faucets in the women's bathroom are crap by the way." _I'm babbling aren't I? Smooth Sammy, real smooth._ "Anyway... Didn't you invite me up here to play?"

"Right, chess!" The commander shook herself from a daze. _Quick, say something before she notices:_ "I was beginning to think you were more interested in a shower."

"I didn't realise that was an option." Samantha was quick to pounce on the idea.

"If you want one?" Shepard shrugged uncertainly, "sure, why not."

"Well... just give me a moment to grab my things".

...

 _What was I thinking? This was not a good idea._ Shepard sat on a chair in the lower section of her cabin, the sound of running water and that marvelous soft accented voice filling the room. _You weren't thinking, that's kind of the problem._ She looked up to answer a question and realised the gap in the glass case where the Destiny Ascension used to be. _Shit_. She felt her mouth go dry. _You wanted a distraction_. _This wasn't what I had in mind._

She tried to chase thoughts involving 'conduct unbecoming an officer' out of her head. _It's not as if you're being hypocritical, you've always been lax with the crew about their fraternizations_. Somehow she managed to keep conversing with the specialist while keeping her thoughts to herself. _Fraternization? Sure, I may have dabbled when I first joined up, but I've always been firm regarding abuse of rank._

 _Focus on the model ships, or those empty wine glasses or something_ _ **other**_ _than the naked woman in the shower._ _ **Beautiful**_ _naked wo..._ _ **Subordinate!**_ _Your naked subordinate remember. As in_ _ **Out. Of. Bounds**_ **.** Shepard was so focused on wrestling her own thoughts she almost missed Traynor's proposition, once the words filtered through her brain she let go of her self-constraint. Eyes dancing freely over the younger woman's body as she walked towards the shower.

"Oh, I'm interested..."


	27. Morning After

Samantha woke slowly, feeling more relaxed and at peace than she had in months. She stayed still with her eyes closed a moment, basking in the blissful memories of the night before. She reached out gently to stroke Shepard but couldn't find a body. Reaching out on the other side had the same result, the bed was empty. She opened her eyes with trepidation, hoping against hope that she hadn't messed up. Shepard was hard to read, a constantly changing enigma, but she had been sure that some part of the woman had been interested in her. Little signals had been going off almost since they'd met. At first she'd tried to ignore them, half convinced she was imagining them, projecting her own crush and desires onto something nonexistent. But as time went on her feelings only got stronger, the physical attraction certainly hadn't lessened, but it had been overtaken by a care for and interest in the other woman's personality. Her soul rather than her body. The signs coming the other way hadn't stopped either. They'd been brief, they'd been rare. Like all emotions in the commander they had been mere glimpses, cracks in the impenetrable armour, a momentary escape into the real world before being pulled back in and buried behind the mask. However Sam had been certain they were there.

 _God what if she'd been wrong? What if this was just a one night stand?_ **She** had been the one to proposition her commanding officer, not the best career move in the military. Shepard was known to be as stubborn as stone but no matter how iron willed, who could turn down a naked woman in the shower? Well a straight lady presumably... or a gay guy. Last night had been all the evidence she needed that the commander wasn't straight however, or male.

She finally caught sight of the commander, sat in the dark in one of the comfy chairs, already dressed in cargo trousers and a compression tee, face illuminated by the light from a datapad. In the privacy of her own cabin Shepard's mask was down, feelings visible on her face. Whatever she was reading didn't seem good. Sam was unsure if she moved, or made a noise, or if the commander simply felt her eyes boring into her. Either way she looked up, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she saw the specialist awake in her bed and Samantha felt a flutter in her chest as her own face replied in kind.

"Hey," Shepard stood up slowly, locking the datapad as she put it to one side and walked over, Traynor analysing her every move. There seemed to be a sparkle in her eye, a happiness, but at the same time an undercurrent of uncertainty, nerves and a hint of... _was that guilt?_

"I had a nice time last night."

"So did I..." Sam patted the bed and was gratified when the other woman joined her. "I can't tell you how much I needed that."

"Are you using me for my shower?" It was a typical Shepard comment, light and teasing, but there was the slightest trace of uncertainty, almost vulnerability in it's delivery.

"I certainly hope so, among other things."

"Well, in that case it's yours whenever you like." Traynor breathed easier at that, _good, not just a one night stand_. "So... What do we do now?"

"I guess that's up to you."

"No." The soldier shook her head firmly, suddenly serious as she raised herself up to sit against the headboard. "You can't just let me make the decisions because I'm a commander, that's how abuse of rank starts. If this is to go any further then in this room we've got to be equals, you can't just see me as your C.O."

"Shepard," Traynor grabbed the other woman's hand. _Is this what the guilt's about? She's worried about taking advantage, that I feel pressured into being here? Did she miss the bit were_ _ **I**_ _had to seduce_ _ **her**_ _?_ "Trust me, I see you as much more than **just** 'the Commander'. I want this, I really do. I just... I don't want to push you into something that **you** don't want... You look so nervous right n..."

"I'm not..." The commander started indignantly, pulling her hand away and standing up, she paused and rubbed the back of her neck with an awkward chuckle as Traynor's eyebrow shot up. "Sorry, force of habit... I'm nervous as hell. I... I don't really know how this is supposed to go. Normally this is the point we share breakfast and go our separate ways. Assuming nobody snuck away already..."

"We can still do that if you want?" Traynor suggested cautiously, trying to keep her voice neutral. Shepard's eyes flick up searching for clues in the specialist's face before giving a small shake of the head.

"I think I want more. At least... I think I want to try, I just... I don't know how, I don't have any experience in... this... I don't want to hurt you when I fuck it up." Samantha couldn't help the laugh that escaped her lips as she reclaimed the commander's hands, intertwining their fingers and smiling as Shepard's thumb gently stroked her hand in response.

" **If** Shepard, not when, if. And **if** you fuck up or heaven forbid **I'm** the one who fucks it up, then we deal with it. We're both adults... most of the time." A familiar smirk pulls across the commander's face at that remark and she gives a brief nod, before collapsing backwards onto the bed with a groan.

"Shit... So much for never mixing business and pleasure..."

"Then we don't mix it." Any lingering doubts Traynor may have had about Shepard's desire to be together vanished with the emotions that flashed through the commander's eyes at those words, she hurried to continue so as not to prolong the worry. "We keep it separate. Deck 2 is all business, deck 1 for pleasure."

"That simple huh?" The smile was back but before Sam could answer the intercom crackled to life, EDI's voice filling the cabin.

"Shepard we have-"

"Not now EDI, important conversation in progress."

"My apologies Commander, but you wanted to know as soon as we found a target. Shall I inform the admirals of the reason for your delay?" It took everything Samantha had not to burst into laughter at the commander's rapidly changing faces. Even then she couldn't hide the grin as she climbed out the bed.

"If they ask just tell them she's on her way EDI. Come on you, we should go." She held her hand out and Shepard accepted it, pulling herself up.

" **I** should go, **your** shift doesn't start for over an hour yet, take your time." Shepard snuck a kiss, the comm specialist responding in kind but breaking it when the spectre attempted to deepen it.

"Mmm... Go Commander."

"Yes ma'am!" Shepard threw a cheeky half salute and turned on her heel, picking up her boots as she strode past them. There would be enough time to lace them up in the elevator. She turned as she suddenly thought of something: "Wait, what about Decks three to five?"

"I'll follow your lead." The lift doors closed, shutting off any further communication. Samantha smiling as she went to find her clothes.


	28. Reclaiming Rannoch

"You seem happier today, Shepard." Tali observed as the shuttle sped towards the planet's surface.

"Of course I'm happy Tal, didn't you hear? We're taking back my sister's homeworld today."

"No that's not it, there's something else."

"Oh? You know that from the last time I liberated Rannoch?"

"No she's right, you **are** different..." The turian agreed turning to look at her curiously. "Well I'll be damned Shepard, and all the way out here as well. That means it's got to be someone on the Normandy." Far above them 'someone on the Normandy' listened to the armour mics with fascinated horror. She hadn't even thought about people noticing and had no idea how the commander would react. She suddenly realised she had no idea how she **wanted** Shepard to react. She wasn't exactly keen on being the subject of scuttlebutt but at the same time if the commander simply denied it, or filed it as unimportant... Well that would have to hurt.

"Ooh, who is it? Is it serious? Wh..." The quarian gave her best impression of a salarian, reeling off a dozen questions at an impressive speed.

"Easy Tal, I don't even know the answer to half these questions."

"You don't know her name?" She teased lightly, "shame on you Shepard, I thought you made a point of learning the names of everyone on your crew."

" **Exactly!** 'On my crew', I'm the commanding officer, do you have any idea how many regs there are against it?Even **if** I can just flash the Spectre card and waltz right through the shit storm she definitely can't, and we didn't exactly get the chance to talk about the rest of the questions on your list this morning so I don't know. For now all you're getting out of me is that I had a lovely time last night with a beautiful woman."

"Fine, but I'm not dropping it, this is payback for all those times you teased me about Kal'Reeger."

"Oh merde! Cortez we there yet?" The tone of voice made it clear that Tali was owed a **lot** of payback. The shuttle pilot managed to keep his voice remarkably neutral as he replied with a negative, the quarian already readying herself for her attack.

"Let's see now... This is so unfair, I've hardly met any of your crew yet... Is it that guard in the war room?"

"There's this thing called shifts Tali, you could be talking about anyone right now." Traynor smiled, that information was more than enough for the commander to say no, but clearly she was going to make her friend work for it.

"You know... The one who's name's spelt the same as the soup?"

"Who? Oh you mean Campbell? She's married."

"The other one on that shift?"

"Westmoreland? Single last I heard but straight. Are we seriously going through my entire crew?"

"Only the female ones. What about the two in engineering?"

" 'The two in engineering'? Are you hoping I'm gonna confirm or deny an entire department?"

"You know the... ones." Tali must have made some sort of gesture, Samantha briefly regretted not having the shuttle's interior camera up on screen before quickly correcting that mistake. She must have really been in shock to miss the chance to watch the commander squirm like this.

"I think she means the twins Shepard." Garrus helpfully supplied, amusement clear in his voice.

"What? Hell no Tali! You've only been aboard a couple of days so I'm gonna let that one slide, what you need to know about the twins is that they're damn good at their jobs but they must have had a complete sense of humour removal. I'm not talking about having a different sense of humour to the rest of us, I'm talking never laughed at anything, **ever!** It's borderline creepy."

"That's true." Garrus confirmed. "EDI's even got standing orders to report to us if they do laugh."

"Of course, EDI! You'll help won't you? Can you send me names and pictures of all female crew members please?" There was another groan of despair from the commander.

"I finally convince a quarian to play nice with an AI and this is what happens! At least filter it to just the crew members who are single or poly, I might be a genocidal maniac but I do have **some** moral standards."

"Come on Garrus, you've been onboard longer than me, give me a hand here."

"Sorry Tali, I'm having enough fun just watching. Besides, I like the position of all my body parts right now. You're the only one she's never threatened to rearrange."

"I may be rethinking that stance." The commander moaned, but there was no malice in her voice. "Remind me why I'm friends with you?"

"You needed my data on the geth to prove Saren was a traitor."

...

Samantha listened in horror as her commander (and hopefully partner, assuming the dextros hadn't made her change her mind in the last half hour) agreed to be hooked into the geth consensus without question. Well... without hesitation anyway, there were **some** questions:

"Why couldn't you have mentioned this earlier? Like on the shuttle?" _Yes,_ Sam thought in agreement, _some warning would have been nice._ "You sat there the entire time with the perfect topic to shut these guys up and you didn't bring it up? What the hell Legion!"

"I am not Legion." Was the geth's helpful reply.

"Yeah I know, Legion would have helped me out. I need to call you something though, I can't just go around shouting 'oi, geth!' Think of the confusion." _Yeah that would be chaos._

"This platform is designated 'standard model no. 5328974 and currently houses 1,182 geth programs..."

"Yeah well I'm not calling you that. By the time I've shouted out "Standard model no. 53864... Whatever it was, we could all be dead. It's either Legion or Fred. Now how about we stop wasting time and get plugged in. This better fucking work." _Umm, can we run through the safety features a moment please?_

"Shepard are you sure about this? Remember what happened with Project Overlord?" Garrus intruded as the voice of reason. _Project What?_

"We are aware of that experiment." The synthetic admitted, "We have refined the interface they created and have equipment from Normandy to facilitate safe contact. We request your trust."

"See, Fred says it's fine. I'll be fine." _Oh great, she's named the geth Fred! She knows it's not a pet right?_

"I am not Fre-"

"Shut it Legion! Let's do this."

"Shepard, this is insane!" Tali opined, "You're talking about a virtual world built for synthetics. Hostile geth synthetics! Project Overlord almost unleashed a rogue AI-human hybrid on the galaxy and we shouldn't worry because an AI says it's been improved?" _It nearly did WHAT!?_

"Look if it saves the liveships we've got to try. If I start glowing green you have permission to shoot me." _Green? Shoot... Not helping!_

"Oh great, we have a contingency plan! How very reassuring. Then what?" _Is it too late to abort this mission?_

"Improvise." All further protests were cut off as the commander stepped into the pod and signaled for the geth to begin the upload.

...

Samantha had known the object of her heart's desire was reckless long before she'd slept with her, and she'd had plenty of experience worrying about the woman during past missions, back when she was 'just' the bat-shit crazy N7 marine with a gorgeous ass and overwhelmingly intimidating reputation. Back when Sam tried to convince herself that her concern about the spectre's safety was purely because she was widely considered the galaxy's best hope for survival and NOT in any way due to the unobtainable crush she had on her complex enigma of a commanding officer. What she was feeling was certainly nothing new, but even so... As time ticked by in relative silence she couldn't help the familiar sense of apprehension trickling through her, at least when the team was in combat she could tell how things were going, the waiting around not knowing was horrible. It couldn't be any easier for the rest of Zulu squad down on the ground, so close to the commander and yet totally impotent to help. It finally became too much, Garrus resorting to the time honoured military tradition of inappropriate humour to break the tension.

"Look at it this way, AI's rely on logic right?" Tali agreed hesitantly and the turian continued "Well then... if any **do** get in Shepard's head there's no way they'll survive!"

"I heard that." Came a familiar voice, everyone's attention flying back to the transparent pod as the lid rose up, the commander blinking as she rolled out her neck and shoulders.

"Shepard, are you OK?" She ignored her friend's question as she stepped out, far more interested in the answer to her own:

"Did it work?"

"Geth fighters have been disabled. Any remaining squadrons attacking the liveships have withdrawn. The server is offline." EDI's voice came through the comm link, seconds before noise filled the server room. The ground team drawing their weapons at the red wall of giant killer robots suddenly surrounding them, Shepard throwing up a biotic barrier over her squad in response.

"Are you sure? What's happening?" Instead of EDI it was the geth reconstruction; Fred, Legion, standard model no. 5328974 or whatever else you might want to call it that answered.

"We have transferred geth programs from the server into these platforms."

"What! Why?"

"They wish to join us. Without the reaper infection they have renounced the Old Machines and will oppose them. They are now us." After a few more questions Shepard seemed satisfied and holstered her pistol. Tali and Garrus were clearly less certain, merely lowering their weapons, rather than putting them away completely.

"Fine, but you need to work on warning us organics better Legion. We could have killed you all." She stepped up to the closest Prime unit standing to attention, not even reaching halfway up the synthetic's chassis as she walked a tight circle round it to inspect it, a sadistic smirk suddenly stretching across her face. "Someone better remind me to warn Hackett. The old man'll have a heart attack."

...

"Where the hell's a thresher maw when you need one!?" Zulu squad had been fully equipped for a physical assault on the geth fighter squadron's server and having bypassed the need to use up ammo and other supplies via hooking straight into the geth consensus, the commander hadn't seen the point in wasting time returning to the Normandy. Instead Cortez took Admiral Xen's prototype targeting laser with him when he went to pick them up and the shuttle carried straight on to an assault on the main base. The plan was simple, fight their way through the enemy base and knock out the reaper signal responsible for broadcasting the geth's upgrades, thus allowing the Quarian fleet to once again take the upperhand in the raging space battle above. Of course as the saying goes: 'no plan survives contact with the enemy'...

"Shepard to Fleet, it's not a Reaper base, it's an actual Reaper! I need an orbital strike." The commander's voice came through on multiple comm channels. Traynor liaising with her opposite number on the Heavy Fleet's flagship to further co-ordinate efforts. It seemed like mere seconds passed before the real time tactical display was showing the quarian ships firing. Several nerve-wracking minutes later the dot representing the reaper stopped moving although it still registered as, well... 'alive' was a matter of philosophical debate, but certainly operational.

"What did we hit?" Admiral Gerrel asked the question on everyone's mind.

"The firing chamber. Looks like a weak point when it's priming." In the background Sam could hear the noise of a heavy machine gun venting heat. She assumed even Shepard had no illusions of killing a reaper with a machine gun, but it was an understandable reaction. There was no way a soldier like the Commander could just sit back and let fate take control without at least a token resistance.

"Damn it! Their jamming towers have us targeting manually. We can't make a precision shot."

"Pull over! EDI, patch the quarians to the Normandy's weapons systems. I want the targeting laser synced up to the whole damn fleet. This ends now!" Traynor missed the next part as the Normandy shook and she swung wildly in her safety harness, a red glow lighting up the ship's interior from the reaper's weapon beam. Once she'd reorientated herself, both body and mind, she turned her attention back to Zulu team's personal comm frequency. "Get out of here! Either of you die and I'm killing the pair of you!"

"Fine, but if **you** die I'll personally hunt down Lawson and force her to put you back together again so I can kill you myself." Garrus threatened in response and there was a faint human chuckle.

"Understood. Now **GO!** " Sam watched through Tali's action cam as the commander turned and started running back the way they'd come, straight towards the reaper.

"Damn that's big..." Her secret hack into the team's armour mics was still active and Traynor couldn't even pretend to feel guilty as she listened in to what the commander no doubt assumed was a private airing of her thoughts. A whispered mantra of "Scrap metal, scrap metal, scrap metal" came through, and she could hear deep slow breaths, watching on the monitoring system as Shepard's vitals slowed right down as she brought herself to an almost zen-like state. Apparently satisfied, her voice rose, a trace of humour present as she jumped down from her rocky outcrop onto a wide ledge, "Come on scrappy, me and you, the only dance that really matters." Finally, voice 100% Commander, she activated comms: "Shepard to fleet, I'll paint the weak spot. Link up with the Normandy and be ready to fire."

...

"Shepard." A deep voice reverberated around the canyon and through the commander's mic into the specialist's ear. Samantha felt a chill run down her spine at the sound, diagnostics reading the machine as very weak but still not dead.

"You know who I am?"

"Harbinger speaks of you." Traynor listened in awe as her girlfriend stood in front of one of the most feared sights in the galaxy and simply talked. Her heart rate slightly elevated as a result of the running and dodging, but steady, and nowhere near as high as the specialist's own.

"Speaks or warns? I mean I'm honoured and all, but y'all still not getting my body. Harby talk about anyone else?"

"You resist. But you will fail. The cycle must continue."

"I have a better idea: we destroy you and live our lives in peace. It's time for the cycle to be broken, tell your friends we're coming for them." A light shone bright on the CIC display as the targeting laser was activated once more. Traynor could feel the faintest of vibrations along the floor of the Normandy as the thanix cannons fired on full and could imagine the whole Quarian fleet lined up doing the same. _They bloody well better be helping anyway._ Cheering erupted briefly throughout the ship as the dot disappeared from the tactical display. Still listening in to the armour mics, Sam alone heard the commander's quiet deadpan: "Never mind. I'll tell them myself."

"We did it, we killed a reaper. Keelah..."

"Did you ever doubt me Tali? I'm hurt..." The faint tinge of relief in her voice was evidence that even the commander hadn't been 100% certain of the result going in, no matter how well she hid her concerns in front of others.

"You realise that still only counts as one right Shepard?" Garrus drawled as he sauntered over to them, rifle still in his hands.

"Pfft, if it's just one I might as well let the Navy boys claim the kill. Speaking of which... Shepard to fleet, how's it looking up there?"

...

"So, how was your day?" The voice **sounded** like the one belonging to her C.O except it spoke in a lighter, playful tone that didn't normally manage to escape until at least halfway through a conversation. _She can't have come down from the adrenaline high yet,_ Traynor postulated. _Either that or Chakwas has pumped her full of the good stuff._ She spared a brief glance to the side, running a quick visual check for injuries; _two legs, two arms, two eyes, two brea... yep, everything's still there..._ She quickly returned her attention to her screen.

"Oh you know, the usual. Data feeds, comm channels... being shot at by a reaper. Joker pulled the Normandy through some insane maneuvers to stay out of the line of fire. I was terrified at first, but then I was furious, I can only imagine what it was like having that thing chasing you..."

"How much trouble am I in if I include the word 'fun' in my answer?"

"Fun?" The specialist finally stopped her multitasking; looking directly up at her, quite possibly deranged, partner. There was a twinkle in her eyes, a barely repressed grin as she gave an apologetic half shrug. Sam shook her head. "First fine and now fun, I think you and I might have to sit down and work our way through the dictionary sometime."

"I can think of more exciting books to work our way through..." Samantha couldn't help the sound that escaped her lips or the blush that streaked across her face as she caught the implication, eyes darting round the CIC to check if anyone was listening.

"Deck Two Shepard!" She attempted to admonish but her voice came out strangled, the commander not even attempting to hide her smirk.

"Sorry." _She's totally not sorry._ "I should go. Enjoy the rest of your shift." _Yeah, great. Now_ _ **that**_ _idea's stuck in my head._ As she prepared to leave Shepard leaned in, breath tickling behind the specialist's ear, voice low: "Just to warn you, I'm rubbish with rules."

...

 **Author's note:**

Sorry about the delay on this one, updates are likely to be a bit less regular going forward now. For anybody who felt their reference senses tingling, yes the "It's either Legion or Fred" section is a nod to Doctor Who and Tom Baker (4th Doctor)'s early interactions with companion Romanadvoratrelundar who was given the option of "either Romana or Fred".


	29. Chapter 29

"Shit, watch the flank!"

"Somebody stop that slippery bastard!"

"Come on now, with me..."

"Move your ass... Argh!"

Shepard's orders to her squad came hard and fast but didn't stand a chance against the chaos. Traynor found herself laughing at the sight of the dysfunctional unit, so perfectly synced in combat, completely falling apart at the concept of team sport. It probably didn't help that some of them appeared to be playing different games, an understandable confusion when the 'goals' were a series of 12 foot tall geth prime units at either end of the pitch. From what she'd seen the aim was to throw the ball through the shotgun blast holes in the chest plates, although she had no idea where they'd found the ball or who was keeping score. There was also a distinct lack of referee resulting in the apparent 'anything goes' stye of gameplay.

"Never thought I'd say this Garrus, but you need to work on your aim!" The turian responded with a particularly rude gesture but the commander merely chuckled.

They were still on Rannoch just over a week after the local reaper's destruction. One of the reasons being so Adams and his team could 'patch up a few small niggles' with the Normandy. Samantha wasn't entirely convinced that anything requiring the drive core to be switched off in order to be fixed should be described as a 'niggle', but then a lot of the engineering team had suffered long term exposure to the contagion known as Commander Shepard. At this point she wouldn't be surprised to hear a hull breach described as a 'minor inconvenience to ship integrity', sometimes the woman really did seem contagious. Either way the Normandy was now parked on the planet's surface, allowing the non-combat crew to go ground-side somewhere other than the Citadel for the first time since the invasion of Earth. Despite the current break, not all of it was R&R. The ship-side duty roster may have been pared down to the point it could barely even be called a skeleton crew, but most people not directly involved with the Normandy repairs had been assigned a variety of tasks to help the quarians establish themselves on the planet.

Zulu squad and marines of both species had spent the first two days of their stay wiping out the last few pockets of geth resistance on the ground, but even with their complete annihilation and a lack of natural predators there were still huge obstacles to the quarians plan to use Rannoch as a safe base for their civilians while the fleet took part in the Reaper war. Most notably issues of food and shelter. While many of the buildings from before the Morning War and subsequent exile still stood, they were constructed in a time before the quarians needed environmental suits and as such there weren't many (if any) clean rooms on the planet. All the quarian wounded were currently still aboard ship and most of the quarians groundside were soldiers or engineers. Salvage teams worked in never ending shifts on the wreckage from the most recent war, separating surviving components into piles of things useful for colonization or better utilized within the fleet.

"Lola are you sure you should be..." Vega's concerned query ripped Traynor's attention back to the game, which had temporarily stopped for people to grab drinks. The marine had pulled his t-shirt off, Shepard following suit, revealing her sports bra underneath. James gestured vaguely towards his superior's body.

"What?" The commander looked down at the tight bandage wrapped around her midriff. "Oh that! Don't worry, it's only there to keep to Chakwas happy, I'm fine."

"Shepard has she put you on the list again? Is that why we're still here?" Garrus asked, amusement and concern fighting for dominance in his voice.

"No! I resent the accusation. I'm clear for duty." _Light duty,_ Sam corrected silently in her head, remembering sitting in the captain's cabin and listening to her partner's eloquent tirade of curses against 'all followers of Asclepius, and stronzo atheists with medical degrees!' And how she should 'take that snake encrusted stick and shove it where Apollo don't shine.'

"What! Why are you all looking at me like that? Oh, for..." She fiddled with her omni-tool a moment, putting a call through to the med bay. "Chakwas, you said I'm allowed to exercise, right?"

"A moment ago I would have said yes, now I am finding myself wondering why you're asking." The doctor's voice came through on speaker, loud and clear for them all to hear. "Define 'exercise' for me would you please; if it's sparring krogan or going on a thresher hunt then no." Light chuckles were evident in all directions, everyone present knowing that given the opportunity Shepard would likely have jumped at the chance for either of those activities, almost certainly without asking the doc for clearance.

"Fun though that sounds I'm just talking basketball. My crew is mutinying about letting me play because they've seen your bandage. I **told** you it would be better if I took it off."

"When she says 'basketball' imagine it more like Ultimate full contact biotiball, only with basketball style goals. We didn't know she was injured I swear!" Garrus called out. Noticing the commander's glare he added: "If she **is** clear can **I** have a doctor's note forbidding play instead? Mark me down as paranoid, I think my C.O wants to kill me." More laughter greeted the turian's remark but on the other end of the comm there was only a sigh.

" **Light** exercise Commander. Interpret that how you will but tear those stitches one more time and you **will** be on the O.D list until **fully** healed." Chakwas logged out leaving Shepard cursing at her backfired plan, both friends and subordinates alike ripping into her with verbal abuse and banter. Looking around she caught sight of the smiling specialist watching from the sidelines.

"Sod you all then. I'm going for a walk, can't get much lighter than that. Specialist Traynor, you finish those reports on soil samples yet?" Sam jumped straight into work mode at the use of her rank, answering with an affirmative. The commander using the action of pulling her top back on to cover her smile. "Good, come with me then, we can pay the new Ministry of Agriculture a visit. Should be about... two klicks that way. The rest of you know your assignments, Garrus you're in charge, don't forget playtime ends at 1400."

...

Samantha had to admit the sunrise was even more beautiful than the sunset, despite her declaration the night before that the sight was unbeatable.

"This is one of those traps ain't it?" Shepard had muttered in reply, forcing Sam to look at the woman led on the blanket beside her in the fading sun. She still wasn't entirely sure where or when the blanket had been acquired, but the how was probably filed under the heading 'I'm Commander bloody Shepard'. They had spent several hours with the quarians at New Hope discussing potential farming sites and strategies, Shepard advising them on all sorts of little contingencies they'd have to consider now they were growing crops on a planet instead of the carefully controllable environment of the liveships. Then they headed back into the nedas, telling the new Minister of Agriculture they were going back to the Normandy and messaging those left in charge of the ship saying they would spend the night at the fledgling colony, informing both that if they needed the commander urgently they should contact her omni-tool direct. They told EDI the truth. Even Shepard wasn't irresponsible enough not to let **someone** know where she was. The Perseus Veil might be peaceful now but the rest of the galaxy was less so, she could be called into action at anytime and needed to be contactable.

"If I don't say something cliche like 'you're more beautiful than any sunset' then I clearly don't appreciate you enough and if I do then it's terribly cheesy and you'll claim to be lactose intolerant and throw up on me." Sam had laughed at that, snuggling up closer as the stars became visible in the darkening sky.

"It's so peaceful and calm. It just looks... Thank you Shepard, I can't remember the last time I slept under the stars like this."

"Hmm, I can. There was a lot more artillery fire, far fewer beautiful women. This is definitely better."

They hadn't been together that long, but so far the few times Samantha had been able to fall asleep at the commander's side she had always been allowed to wake up naturally. This time however Shepard had roused her early. Her first few disorientated thoughts swung between irritated at being woken and worry that something was wrong to necessitate the waking. Shepard had simply smiled and pointed out to the horizon.

"It's..." Sam knew the science that caused the sight before her eyes, and had a whole dictionary of words at her disposal to describe the magnificence of the dawn streaking across the sky. But for a brief moment words failed her, none of them fully capable of doing justice to the sheer beauty. Noticing something out the corner of her eye, her awe changed to accusation as she had a realisation. "You're not even looking at it!" The soldier's smile widened.

"I've seen a few sunrises this week already. I wanted to see you watching one. What do you want for breakfast? There's strawberry and blackcurrant, or apple and cranberry energy bars."

"Energy bars, how romantic." The specialist teased.

"It's that or RDA tablets, N7s always carry a few. Sorry, I didn't exactly plan this in advance."

"Shocking! I thought the great Commander Shepard always had a plan."

"Well, yeesss... But normally the plans are more like 'kill all the bad guys' or 'save the hostages', I tend to make the little details up on the fly as I go along. I'll do better next time."

"Next time? You're optimistic."

"Well if you don't appreci-" The commander was cut off by a kiss, releasing a small hum of approval when they finally parted.

"Thank you, I mean it... Now... I take it we don't have a toothbrush?"

...

 **Author's note:**

I know we've spent more than enough chapters on and around Rannoch over a relatively short space of time, the next chapter was **supposed** to move on both in terms of time and place but my inspiration for it stalled and this one popped up randomly instead so I hope you like it. In the game if you secure peace between geth and quarians the geth help with the rebuilding of Rannoch. Without the geth someone needs to help the quarians out and since Shep's in the area she might as well lend a hand. Also partly inspired by the ingame dialogue with Sam after rescuing Koris about: 'sipping drinks in Vancouver' / 'you never take me anywhere nice'. I always imagined it continuing along the lines of: "What? I take you all over the galaxy!" "Well yes... but I never actually get to leave the ship" "Oh..." Of course, in this version of the tale they've only been together a couple of days, so that conversation isn't really relevant but I thought I'd let them out the ship for something other than combat.

With regards to the tirade Sam heard in the cabin when Chakwas put Shepard on light duties; Asclepius was the Greek god of medicine so followers of Asclepius would be healers. The 'snake encrusted stick' refers to the Rod of Asclepius which is a staff with a single snake wrapped round it, commonly used by health/medicinal organizations. Apparently in the U.S it is common instead to see the caduceus, a staff with TWO snakes entwined and wings, regardless of which symbol survives in the Alliance they both work with the description. As for 'shove it where Apollo don't shine', Apollo is a sun god... I'm sure you can figure that one out.

stronzo - Italian: asshole. Just Shep sharing her vast appreciation of other cultures and languages again.

nedas - Khelish (Quarian): nowhere. In this context meant more like 'they went into the outback' or the wilds. The empty spots on the map, they aren't at any easily identifiable place so if they aren't somewhere specific then they're 'out in the nowhere'.

RDA (Recommended Daily Allowance) tablets - Small pills scientifically constructed to contain the exact nutritional value recommended for the average human to consume each day in order to be healthy. Most commonly used in spec ops survival kits and emergency aid relief packages or anywhere the acquisition and storage of food may prove to be problematic. While effective in providing what the body needs, people prefer not to use them unless they have to as their small size means psychologically you still expect to be hungry, it also leaves tastebuds feeling unsatisfied.

O.D list - Off Duty list. Exactly what it sounds, the list all ground team members try to avoid and one of Doctor Chakwas's ultimate threats, right up there with 'confined to med bay'. There's also the L.D (Light Duty) list which allows the person to engage in basic tasks but nothing heavy or strenuous and definitely no combat, and the F.D (Full Duty or Fit for Duty) list which is where people are supposed to be. Shepard seems to be of the opinion that if she's conscious, she's F.D. Chakwas often disagrees.


	30. Cerberus Scientists

"Commander, there's something you need to see." Specialist Traynor called out as the soldier left the war room. She immediately changed course towards the comm station, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she tried to repress the small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"What have you got?" Shepard's eyes dropped briefly, but oh so deliberately, over the specialist's body before returning to her face. _Come on, deck 2 Shepard! Deck 2 dammit. OK, I did kind of set that one up, could probably have avoided it with better wording. How can she exaggerate a move so much and still make it look almost subtle?_ Traynor bit down a playful retort of her own and turned back to her work station, fighting hard to hide her smile and remain professional with varying levels of success.

"A group of Cerberus scientists cut ties and fled." Sam saw the tiny instinctive flinch her partner still had at the mention of the name, her entire body tensing for a split second as her fight or flight system subconsciously activated before she forced herself to relax, the whole thing happening so quickly that anybody not deliberately looking out for it might never notice. "We don't know what they were researching, but they were among the Illusive Man's top scientists. They could help build the Crucible."

"Hmm, maybe, seems risky. It might just be a ruse to get agents inside the Crucible project. For all we know they could already be indoctrinated."

"True. I'm not saying we take them at face value or trust them completely, but isn't it also possible that perhaps they simply realised finally that they were on the wrong side? After all they brought you back, built this ship. They can't **all** be completely evil. Whatever crimes Cerberus is committing now... I was on Horizon when the collectors attacked."

"Really?" The commander's voice was level, no change at all to her tone or body language, but her eyes were a swirl of emotion; concern, regret, guilt and something else Samantha couldn't quite place.

"You'll recall I mentioned growing up in the Terminus systems. I was visiting my family at home. While the Alliance was running studies, you were saving me and my family." There was the slightest of cracks audible in her voice.

"Samantha, I didn't know. I'm..." Shepard reached out a hand to comfort her but dropped it when the specialist gave a subtle shake of her head. _I'll be alright, deck 2 Shepard._ All of a sudden there were two conversations in play, one verbal and strictly professional that anyone walking by could hear, and the other private, written and read between the two of them through their eyes and bodies.

"Has the Alliance tried to make contact with the scientists?" _OK, I understand. I'm here if you need anything. You sure you're alright?_

"They've been unable to find them, but they're searching... as is Cerberus." _I'm_ _ **fine**_ _!_

A slight raise of an eyebrow. _You realise that's my line right? You expect me to believe that?_

"I've been monitoring Cerberus communications. I've charted signal frequencies from several Cerberus cells by location and cross-referenced them with known ship movements..." _I can get more technical, keep pushing and I'll make your brain hurt._

 _Wait, what? Dammit don't use work to change the subject!_ "You found them?" _See, I can keep up._

"I believe so, yes." _We're running out of conversation, can we_ _ **please**_ _just talk about it later._

"Nice work, put it on the map and I'll give it a look." _OK, later._

...

It was a couple more days before they were in position and able to launch the _assault? rescue?_ of the Cerberus scientists. _**Ex**_ _-Cerberus scientists, yeah ex... allegedly..._ Shepard was still unsure exactly on her feelings towards the situation. There was so much history and bad blood between them, it was hard not to tar all the organization's employees with the same brush. Especially when every cell she'd ever encountered seemed to be engaged in despicable, unethical or just plain dangerous work. That was unfair of course, according to the Cerberus higher ups she'd been forced to talk to those were just the occasional rogue cell. It was pure coincidence that every time she stumbled upon a base with their logo on the wall it just happened to be a rogue facility. Dammit, she was starting to sound like Ashley now. She didn't know these people's stories, maybe they were deluded or simply duped into joining the organization. Maybe they honestly thought they were doing good work and didn't realise what Cerberus really stood for. After all they were originally a top secret spec ops group, everything about their activities and existence kept hush-hush and classified among the highest levels, their atrocities only becoming public knowledge in the past couple of years. Everything was baseless speculation in the end. She couldn't trust herself to make the correct, clear, rational choice about this, but maybe she didn't have to. After hours working herself up from over-thinking the situation, the commander did an about turn and resorted to over-simplification: The Illusive Man wanted the scientists, and she loved pissing him off. It really was that simple. Afterwards she'd hand any survivors over to Hackett and he could make the informed decisions free from emotions.

...

They landed to find a pitched battle already in progress. The scientists were fighting back with pistols and what sounded like basic first series Avengers, neither of which was having much luck against the heavy armour and shields of the Cerberus troops, and with no armour of their own the Cerberus mattocks were dropping the scientists like flies. All internal quandaries faded away as the commander ordered her squad into flanking positions and focused on the fight.

"Shepard, you're a sight for sore eyes. Damn am I glad to see you." Traynor had given up on being surprised when the ground team ran into people Shepard knew while out on missions long ago. What **was** surprising however was that the man in question was injured, and despite having finished off the enemy the commander appeared to be in no hurry to pass the medi-gel.

"I'd say the feeling's mutual Jacob but apparently lying's bad for my scars." The man gave a halfhearted chuckle.

"Good to see you haven't changed." A handheld communication device interrupted the reunion, Shepard quickly negotiating her way inside the scientist's stronghold.

...

"Shepard, 10 o'clock. Isn't that the guy from Project Overlord?" Traynor's ears picked up at Garrus's comment, she remembered that designation coming up in conversation back on Rannoch. If Tali's comments at the time were anything to go by the project hadn't had much success.

"Dr Archer? Yeah that's the bastard. Wonder if there's any **decent** human beings in this place for us to rescue?"

"Commander Shepard." The man in question held out his hand in greeting as they neared, the spectre pointedly ignoring it as she crossed her arms. "I know you think I'm a monster and you're right. Not a day goes by where my dreams aren't haunted by what I did to David."

"Good, they should be. Pity you didn't have your crisis of morality **before** you tortured your own brother in that machine."

"After your intervention, the Illusive Man insisted I find another test subject. Someone who shared David's 'abilities'. I destroyed all my research, told him if his intention was to work with the devil he only had to look in the mirror. Now every Cerberus soldier in the galaxy has orders to shoot me on sight."

"Welcome to the club." Garrus quipped, earning himself a glare of such intensity from the commander that it could melt iridium.

"My mission is to rescue the scientists on Gellix, you're a scientist and you're here so I guess you're in luck Archer, but don't push it. Stay quiet and as out my way as possible and maybe we'll get through this without you getting punched or shot." She strode away deeper into the base. Traynor's monitoring systems only registered Zulu squad's breathing and heart rates, but she could sense the sharp spike in the commander's anger and irritation levels since landing and Samantha wondered whether or not it had been a good idea to bring this mission to the commander's attention. Maybe she should have forwarded the information to Hackett and let another team handle it instead.

...

"It's important work but right now you need to tend to your family." That single line from Dr. Cole changed everything.

"Wait! There are families here? Children?" Sam wondered if anyone else saw it too, she suspected Garrus did. It was the moment Shepard went from having a job to having a purpose, her entire demeanor altering, subtly but immediately. "OK, we can finish the Q&A when we're somewhere safe. I'm going to go fix the AA guns, be ready for evac by the time I get back."

"Shepard, I'm coming too." The former Cerberus soldier finally limped his way back to the group.

"Jacob you're injured, I'll fix the guns." The tone was dismissive, conversation over, but the man didn't seem to take the hint.

"No way, these are my people, I'm going."

"No can do Jacob, I need people I can trust at my back."

"Seriously Shepard, just what is your problem with me?"

"You want that list chronologically or just the Top 10?" He shook his head with a sigh, lowering his voice slightly as he attempted to stop the rising tension between them.

"You ever wonder how it all went wrong? I mean, I remember the Illusive Man being an idealist, how come I couldn't see the evil? Was I blind?"

"Blind, deaf and fucking stupid Jacob." The spectre scoffed. "Sometimes I thought you were being deliberately ignorant just to piss me off... Look..." She softened her voice with some difficulty, "just get that wound fixed up and make sure your people are ready to leave."

...

"Wasn't that a little harsh back there?" Liara asked once Zulu squad were on their own once more. Shepard looked over at her in disbelief.

"Harsh? He's lucky he's lived this long." The asari glanced at Garrus who simply shrugged, equally baffled.

"What did he do?"

"You mean there's things left in this universe that the shadow broker doesn't know?" Shepard tried to brush the question off. _Liara's the what?_ Sam thought, momentarily distracted. _I knew she was_ _ **an**_ _information broker of some kind but_ _ **the**_ _shadow broker... Actually that explains a lot..._

"He spent half his time trying to be friends with us, admitting Cerberus had faults and all the while defending most of the fucked up decisions the Illusive Man made." Garrus realised it was up to him to pass some of the details along, even if his experiences didn't seem to give a good enough excuse for the commander's attitude. "He also had poor battlefield awareness, the amount of times I lined up a shot only to have him suddenly run in the way..."

"You should have just pressed the trigger anyway." The hatred and bitterness rolling off Shepard was plain even to Traynor all the way out in orbit. She knew that her partner had a past she could never hope to fully learn and understand, knew that she had seen and done a lot of what she termed 'bad things', but Sam had told herself it didn't matter. The level of pure hatred on display for a former team mate was so out of character however that it made her question if she knew the woman at all. The rest of the squad must have been looking at their friend with similar expressions because she sighed and finally granted them an explanation.

"Look he nearly killed Tali OK? Some fucker threw a grenade at her position so she had to relocate in a hurry. Only one bit of cover she had a hope in hell of getting to and she was already en route when dipshit in there decided he was going to run for it. He had plenty other options out left, not to mention he didn't even **have** to move at the time, there was nothing wrong with his previous position. I managed to stabilize her but she'd suffered multiple suit breaches, wounds to both carotid and pulmonary arteries... If Chakwas hadn't been aboard..." She trailed off, none of the people listening needed to hear the rest of the sentence to know how things could have ended. Nobody seemed to be accusing her of overreacting anymore either.

"You said it was mercenaries Shepard!" Garrus accused, finally connecting the dots with past events. "She was off duty for nearly two months! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because the mission comes first and we still needed access to Cerberus resources to complete it. It was hard enough making sure **I** didn't kill him, if you knew as well he'd definitely have had an accident. Come on, we've got to be getting close to that satellite dish, I've had enough of corridors, let's hit the roof."

...

"No wonder Cerberus abandoned this place, it's freezing. Did I ever tell you turians don't like the cold Shepard?" There was a chuckle from the human.

"Only on the hour, every hour back on Noveria. Machine gun nest, twelve o'clock, keep it empty." Zulu squad themselves were like clockwork as they moved from cover to cover, sweeping the roof and leaving no enemy alive on their approach to the AA guns.

"Alright Garrus, you're up. Don't worry about perfect calibrations just get them firing. Liara, ta... Shit! **PHANTOMS!** "

...

"I heard a rumour you're supposed to be in the medbay." Traynor leant against the door just inside the captain's cabin, watching Shepard type away on her personal computer.

"Shouldn't believe everything you hear." She waved the specialist over, sighing when Sam shook her head and nodded at the screen. The little protocols they'd put in place were understandable enough, Samantha draping herself over the commander whenever they were in private and reading all kinds of confidential information wouldn't be good for anyone. It had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with accountability, sooner or later details of their fraternization would become known and with luck, proof that they'd maintained some sense of responsibility would lessen the fallout from the brass slightly, or so they hoped. Still, Shepard wished she could have a manual override, there was nothing in her current report that her mission controller didn't already know. She saved the file and locked the screen, turning to face her girlfriend's approach, noting the concern that flickered across Samantha's features as she caught sight of the new bandages underneath the only partly zipped-up hoody.

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Shepard flipped that damnable half smile but Sam managed to hold out against her stomach's reaction long enough to send a glare back.

"You know I don't like you misusing that word."

"Sorry. But honestly, on a scale of one to dead this is like a... one point five." Samantha didn't look convinced, the commander rising from her seat and cupping her partner's face. "A two max."

"I just can't help feeling it's partly my fault you're injured." She turned to face away. "If I hadn't told you about-"

"Hey enough of that." Shepard interrupted gently, stepping forward and wrapping her arms round Sam's waist, pressing against her back. "I'm always going to find a way to get beat up... That came out wrong, that wasn't even remotely reassuring was it?" She sighed in frustration but there was the faintest flicker of a smile on the specialist's lips. "I **mean** you can't use my health as a measure of your success or failure. First Grissom Academy and now this, you're saving lives and doing a fantastic job, even if I don't understand half of how you actually **do** it. Pretty sure you deserve some kind of reward."

"You know how fighter pilots put those little stamp things under their cockpits for each kill?" Traynor leant back into the embrace with a soft smile, tilting her head round in an attempt to secure eye contact. "Maybe I should get one by the galaxy map every time I analyze the crap out of some data."

"That's my girl, you're turning into a regular marine."

"Well, I guess you're rubbing off on me." Her breath hitched as the commander's hands started moving, tilting her head down and whispering huskily into her ear:

"Hoping to anyway." Samantha nearly lost control of her legs right then but she kept it together enough to protest.

"You're injured Shepard."

"My libido isn't."

"You're unbelievable. You should be on bed rest."

"Well we agree on the bed part. If you don't want to, all you have to do is tell me no..."

...

 **Author's note:**

Sorry about the huge delay on this, still not entirely sure if I like this chapter but need to post something in order to be able to move on. Also aware there is a lot of game dialogue in this one, apologies for that. Oh and while I'm apologising for everything, if anybody happens to like Jacob... Sorry.


	31. Chapter 31

"WOW! This place is amazing! Puts the prefabs back on Horizon to shame." Samantha gazed in awe at the apartment, and to think she'd been considering booking a hotel room for their first shore leave together, this was better than any presidential suite, not that she could actually have afforded renting a presidential suite anyway.

"You could billet a whole platoon in here." Shepard agreed in her own unique, military orientated way as she put their collection of duffel bags down on a sofa. "Go check upstairs and decide where we're dumping this stuff, I'll see what rations there are in the kitchen." The specialist bounded away up the stairs but Shepard barely made it two steps before a call came in from EDI.

"Commander, Admiral Anderson is trying to reach you on the QEC, patching him through to you now." She thanked the AI and exchanged pleasantries with Anderson before getting down to business about the apartment.

"I want you to have it. Take it off my hands."

"You being serious?"

"You need a place that's yours. Somewhere to recharge, clear your head. Kahlee and I were going to settle down there but the longer I'm on Earth the less I want to leave. I want as few loose ends out there as possible."

"That's very generous but it's too much, I can't accept this..." Her protests are suddenly interrupted by a loud squeal from upstairs.

" **There's even a hot tub!"** Shepard's body stiffened, eyes flicking briefly towards the noise before focusing back on the Admiral on vid-screen. A hundred possible excuses and blatant lies fly through her head, an admittance of guilt followed by a hasty 'So what!' or a shit ton of denials. One look at his face however, confirms beyond doubt that he heard.

"Well at least **someone** seems to appreciate the place... Come on Commander, don't make me beg! Look, it's practical. I won't be able to use it anytime soon and we need you in the best shape possible. Rested. Focused." The commander raised an eyebrow at that, wondering if it was supposed to be an admonishment but he kept going: "Relaxed... You need to take some down time once in awhile."

"That's all I've been hearing from the Admiralty lately but when are you planning on taking **your** R &R Sir?"

"We're relocating to London soon, maybe I'll take a week at the Ritz." He joked. "Now are you going to just accept the place or do I have to write it in my will?"

"Now you're just playing dirty! Fine, I'll take it. Don't want to spend the rest of the war wondering if you deliberately let yourself get blown up just so I could have a hot tub."

"Good." He glanced to his right at something off screen. "I've got to go. Take care of yourself Shepard."

"You too Anderson. I'll see you when I see you." Shepard logged off and went to hunt down her troublesome girlfriend, finally finding her in the downstairs study investigating several shelves.

"Look at this, actual, physical books! And there's a hot tub in one of the upstairs bedrooms."

"I heard you... So did Admiral Anderson..." Shepard kept her face blank as she watched the horrified look that came over the specialist, mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a goldfish. "So... Are you going to show me what's so amazing that I've been blackmailed into accepting this monstrosity of an electricity bill for life?"

"It's yours now?"

"Ours," the commander amended with a smile. Samantha felt a surge of emotion at that single simple word and the connotations behind it, launching towards her partner with a passionate kiss. She had counted 3 bedrooms in the apartment but as Shepard deepened the kiss in reply she suddenly wasn't sure if they would make it to any of them.

...

Samantha woke with a start. For a brief moment she was unsure where she was as she flew across a room, both unbelievably fast and impossibly slowly. Tracing her flight trajectory back to the large bed, she saw Shepard thrashing against the sheets, a wave of biotic energy flaring across her body and pulsing outwards.

Traynor let out an involuntary yelp as she hit the floor, time returning to usual speed. The commander shot up, waking at the noise, for a split second the horrors of the nightmare she left behind visible across her face before blinking the real world into focus, worry and concern taking over her features. She rushed forward instinctively, before deliberately slowing as her brain took control. Inching towards Samantha cautiously as if she were a frightened wild animal about to bolt.

"Are you okay?" The specialist nodded, eyes not leaving her commander's face. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't think... I probably should have warned you... I... wasn't expecting to fall asleep... Are you sure you're OK?"

"It's fine. I'm fine, what about you? What just happened?" Something suspiciously close to panic or fear flashed briefly across the spectre's eyes before a mask slammed firmly into place. She whispered a final:

"I'm sorry", before standing and disappearing out the door, leaving a bewildered specialist alone in the room.

...

[Sure I can talk about Commander Shepard. Big topic.] Sam was only half listening to the datapad left behind by Admiral Anderson as she leant against the kitchen counter, she had set the interview to loop more to avoid the silence than out of any real desire to hear it. She stared unseeingly at the new fist shaped dent in the fridge-freezer, desperately running through what happened that morning in her mind. Shepard must have had an accidental flare up, that much was obvious, and it was just as obvious that Shepard had definitely been asleep at the time. _Was that even supposed to be possible?_ A quick extranet search uncovered a forum full of parents of newly developed biotic teenagers wondering the same thing, although their flare ups tended to be much weaker, not having any amps or strength training. It shouldn't still be happening by the time they reached adulthood though, at least not according to the extranet. Biotics trained their midbrains to restrict instinctive flareups to just barriers and purely defensive acts. Except the body didn't magically start doing this at a certain age did it? the kids would have had to learn the necessary skills, it took practice and experience to program a specific response into the subconscious.

" _You'd have lost that bet... I didn't have biotics when I died..."_ Samantha thought back to all those casual, almost throw away lines, Shepard always trying to downplay the importance of the information hidden within, but what did they mean really: A mere one or two years experience as a biotic? [Few people know what Shepard's been through] No wonder her control wasn't perfect. The commander had clearly been given training by someone on how to effectively use dark energy in combat, but had whoever done that helped her with the non-comb side? Did anyone even consider it? [She's been forced to fight a lot of battles alone]

" _I probably should have warned you... I wasn't expecting to fall asleep"?_ It didn't sound like it was the first time this had happened to Shepard but why did falling asleep matter? They'd been sleeping together for well over a month now, she might not spend **every** night in the captain's cabin but surely... Samantha racked her brain, what was so different about last night? She reflected on all the time spent together, falling asleep in Shepard's arms, waking up to find her partner watching her or already sat up at her private terminal typing away. A chill swept through the specialist as she realised she'd never actually **seen** Shepard asleep. She thought even further back, to before they were together, all the late night run ins in the mess hall. Their first ever chess session and how abruptly the commander's mood had changed when Sam suggested she get some sleep. The clues had always been there, how had she not picked up on them? She'd seen first hand just how haunted Shepard still was about her actions on Aratoht and her career was full of tough missions and hard decisions. [God only knows how she got out of some of that. Makes your head spin]

How about the fact that Samantha's own reason for being in the mess at such random times was because she'd been woken from her own nightmares, the horrors of Horizon ensuring any attempt to go back to sleep would be futile. Nine times out of ten if she was awake she'd see the commander. Normally it had just been in passing. A nod of acknowledgement and a quick smile from Shepard as she grabbed a coffee and headed to the war room. A couple of times it was to pick up a protein bar after a late night gym session, the sight and smell of Shepard covered in sweat not as gross as it should have been. More than once it had been her leaving the medbay, with varying degrees of stealth depending on whether or not she had permission. Then there were the times she'd actually sit and talk. At the time Traynor hadn't been able to figure out a pattern or a cause. Did it happen because the commander had finally run out of things to do? Because some part of her knew she needed a break? Or had someone else insisted she stop working? Right now with the benefit of hindsight she was developing a new theory and she couldn't believe it had taken this long to figure out. _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._ Sam's thoughts were interrupted by a beep on her omni-tool and she immediately opened up the message.

{Told you I'd fuck it up.} Traynor released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding as she considered how to reply, [Maybe it doesn't need to be said. Maybe we're too dumb to say it.] Giving up she hit the call button instead, frowning when it was declined. A moment later she got another text. {Sorry, not ready to talk yet. Too much shit in my head.} _What the hell? Then why'd you reach out with the message?_ Sam struggled to keep her own frustration in check, another memory crashing to the front of her brain: _"I'm nervous as hell... I don't have any experience in... this..."_ With a sigh and the datapad's words still ringing in her ears, she typed out the most diplomatic message she could think of {OK, I can wait. Let me know if you need anything. Love you} She didn't notice the other message ninja its way into the conversation until she'd already hit send.

{Should've known better than to think I could have something normal in my life} Samantha winced at the reply, considering her next move as the apartment's VI tried to inform a non-present Shepard about a new message from Joker, the repeated notification mixing with Anderson's pre-recorded concern.

[I worry sometimes she forgets, there's a whole bunch of people who loose sleep over her getting back home.]

...

 **Author's Note:**

She lives! Sorry for another long delay between updates, been working on outing Shepard's nightmares to Traynor for awhile now and been struggling on getting her reactions right, hopefully you like it.


	32. Chapter 32

"We interrupt this program with some breaking news."

"Oh for crying out loud!" Samantha reached for the remote. The whole **point** of watching TV was as a form of escapism from the real world, she didn't need reality intruding on her... She paused in surprise, arm half raised as she caught sight of a familiar face trying to hobble off camera. "JOKER?" It was a matter of seconds to activate her omni-tool and ring him, although it took a lot longer for him to answer.

"Joker I just saw you on breaking news, what's going on?" she winced internally in preparation of his snarky comeback as her brain processed the words used, but he seemed a little preoccupied and instead of the expected comment concerning 'breaking' and Vrolik's Syndrome, he simply screamed into her ear:

" **SHEPARD USED ME AS BAIT!"**

"What? Why'd she... Never mind. Is she all right?"

"What do you mean 'never mind'? She **used** me as BAIT!"

"Yeah I got that bit Joker, the news said something about multiple gunmen..."

...

Shepard still wasn't answering her calls so Samantha resorted to hacking the commander's omni-tool. If you could call it 'hacking' when she already possessed the necessary codes as part of her day job. When the audio connection activated to the sound of heavy gunfire she temporarily felt a strange sense of relief that the commander wasn't simply still avoiding her, before immediately feeling guilty over such childish thoughts when her partner was fighting for her life.

She didn't say anything at first, months of listening to the ground team's armour mics while multi-tasking with sometimes more than a dozen programs running on her screen had developed in her an ability to infer certain information from the audio of war and she waited until it sounded like there was at least an 85% chance of Shepard not getting hurt if she were to be startled by the specialist's voice popping up out of nowhere before announcing her presence.

"Shepard, Joker told me what happened. Are you OK?"

"Fine." The curt reply came back followed by the sound of two shots in quick succession, the thud of a body hitting the floor and that peculiar, not-quite-static sound that she had learnt early on in her role as mission controller meant the speaker was engaging their biotics. She couldn't help rolling her eyes at the typical response. _You_ _ **know**_ _what I think of that word! If you weren't in the middle of a firefight right now I'd-_

"Excuse me, who is this?" A whiny voice interrupted. "You're on an unsecured channel and you're putting Commander Shepard in danger!"

"Unsecured? It won't be in a moment trust me. Who is this? Do you need me to boot her off the line Commander?"

"Hang on Sam, Joker mentioned Staff Analyst Brooks right? That's her."

"Brooks? Nope. He mentioned something about 'bait' and possibly a few other choice B-words, but I don't remember a Brooks." There was a faint chuckle on the other side of the comms but it soon morphed into a hastily stifled moan that Traynor translated as 'wound to lower torso, most likely abdominal or bottom two ribs'. _OK now_ _ **that**_ _I really shouldn't be able to work out!_

"She's the one who warned us about the attack. Well... Tried. Her timing sucks! Brooks if Traynor says the connection's secure, it's secure. Now everybody play nice. Traynor did Joker remember that I asked to him to find my crew?"

"I'm working on it. Liara's the closest to your location, still trying to contact a few stragglers but all Zulus should be on their way. I'll patch them into the comms once they get closer."

"Negative Control, I'll take the closest two, reroute everybody else to Anderson's apartment and start establishing a FOB. Brooks, you focus on C-Sec and... FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" There was the sound of multiple objects landing in close proximity to and on all sides of the microphone, ergo all around Shepard, this was quickly followed by a shuffling noise, an outbreak of weapons fire and then a strange combination of almost-static, a sort-of thwoosh and a thump that Sam had only heard once before. She knew as a rule, Shepard didn't use biotic charges, it always left her drained and without appropriate vanguard training she lacked the precision to do much more than hit walls at high speeds and injure herself. The bizarre decision to attempt one now while out of armour was explained a millisecond later when a series of explosions went off from her former location. "You casacree salvaks are **really** pissing me off!"

...

"I've found a way across but it's locked down."

"Right because of the uh, lockdown." _Seriously? You're really helping the ground pounders opinion of us tech-heads here Brooks! Please tell me I was never this hopeless._ "Can you get past it?"

"Give me a minute Commander, if I can get into the C-Sec servers and-"

"Don't worry Control, I got it. Being a Super-Spectre's got to be good for something once in awhile." The 'super spectre' had barely finished speaking when an ear wrenching alarm started blaring across the system, Samantha cursing as she toggled the volume down on her comms.

"Shepard! What are you doing? I heard that from here!"

"It's all under control." There was more than a touch of defensiveness to the commander's tone, but no matter how loud the klaxon it couldn't completely drown out the sound of renewed gunfire.

...

"Having a bad day Shepard?" Liara teased as she finally linked up with the commander. Despite her partner's impressive resume in the art of war, survival and general badassery, Samantha was still relieved that she was no longer alone out there.

"You could say that," the spectre admitted in a voice that flashed _'you don't know the half of it'_ in capital letters and bright neon lights.

"I heard you fell through a fish tank." _Wait, she did what!? How come I haven't heard about this yet?_

"We'll talk about it later." Shepard said dismissively. _You're damn right we will. Oh and we still need that talk about this morning..._ Traynor split her attention momentarily, listening to Liara remind the frustrated soldier that sometimes you **can** get things by asking and don't have to shoot everything, while letting Garrus and Tali into the apartment. The turian gave what Sam assumed was supposed to be his specie's equivalent of a knowing grin upon seeing her, but she was too busy to analyse it when all hell suddenly broke loose on the other side of the comms.

"GET DOWN! What **is** that they're using?"

"Uh maybe follow your own advice and keep down Shepard." Liara urged as she noticed the human stick her head above cover for a peek without even firing back.

"I want to see what that is. I'm fairly sure its new... I don't **remember** being shot at by one before."

"You know, if we kill them all I'm sure we could get a closer look at the gun without dying." The asari reasoned diplomatically as she realised that for some reason the spectre wasn't as focused as normal and was at risk of getting dangerously distracted.

"What've I told you about reading my mind Liara?" Shepard shot back jokingly, but at least this time when she raised above cover another enemy dropped down permanently.

...

"So what was it this time Shepard," Garrus teased, "5 minutes before bad guys started shooting at you? Do you even know what shore leave means?" Specialist Traynor had had to fight hard not to burst into laughter when her lover reentered the apartment but the rest of Zulu squad weren't as considerate and immediately started ripping into her while she stood in her N7 hoody and shorts, still dripping wet and smelling slightly of fish in the living room. _How did she even manage to get into such a posh and fancy restaurant as Ryuusei wearing that? She must have just grabbed the first clothes she found when she left this morning. I doubt they'll be bending the dress code ever again after tonight_.

"Can we please take this seriously, those bastards fired into a room full of non-combatants..."

"News reports claim that civilian casualties were limited to... fish."

"The Fishmonger of the Normandy strikes again!"

"FOCUS!"

"Well, what do we know about these mercenaries?" Liara was the first to steer the conversation back on track as Sam tossed her partner a towel, receiving a nod of thanks for her trouble.

"They have weapons and don't like me?" The commander replied, vigorously drying her hair.

"That's not helpful Shepard."

"Yeah, really doesn't narrow it down much."

"I can't believe you survived all that. They had guns! And grenades! and those drone things!" Traynor took her first proper look at the Alliance intel analyst Shepard and co. had dragged in with them, it seemed as if she was a couple of steps past a nervous break down.

"Brooks, gunfire means something serious is going on. Can you keep it together long enough for us to figure this out?" Shepard snapped. Her irritation levels were clearly nearing their limit and Traynor felt some sympathy for the analyst, she knew what it was like to be a fish out of water, she also found herself wondering how long it had been since the commander ate anything. Shepard closed her eyes taking a deep steadying breath and when she opened them again everyone in the room knew that they weren't looking at Samantha's girlfriend, Tali's air sister, or Vega's sparring partner Lola. They weren't even looking at a frustrated and pissed off soldier who'd had their evening violently interrupted, the woman before them was undoubtedly 100% pure Commander.

"Alright, all the brainy-bots get your heads together over there. I want to know who these guys are, what they want and where they are so I can stop them. The rest of you, lets check arms and armour."

...

"Pretty sure you count as a brainy-bot." The commander stated as Samantha entered the kitchen behind her, not looking round from her inspection of the contents of the fridge.

"Figured as much. I just wanted to-"

"Not now Traynor." It was definitely THE Commander who shut her down, and Sam knew she wouldn't get an apology any time soon, but she did catch the slight constriction of muscles synonymous with a wince and the self-frustrated exhale that was just a fraction too quiet to count as a sigh.

"Mission first, I know." The specialist supplied before Shepard could say anything one way or the other. "Just making sure you get some medigel on that wound before you head back out." The soldier finally turned round to face her clearly about to make some kind of protest or denial so Sam jumped in with the clincher; "Unless you'd rather I ask Chakwas to join us here at the FOB?"

"That's got to be classed as mutiny surely." Normally such words would clearly be a joke, but while she didn't seem threatening, the humour didn't quite make its way through either, it was more like she was going through the motions of what she felt was expected from her. She let the specialist patch her up but their was an awkwardness and tension between them that had never been there before, both of them aware of the need to sit down and talk sooner rather than later, but equally aware that now wasn't the time.

...

"Got something Commander!" The response was immediate, everyone in the house packing in close around the table. "We've identified the mercs as CAT6, a private secur-"

"I know who CAT6 are." Shepard interrupted immediately. "They never used to be this well equipped though. It's been a long time since I felt a need to loot my enemies but their kit sure would give our marine detachment a boost. I'm definitely keeping this gun..." She trailed off briefly but nobody interrupted, they knew their commander well enough to tell she wasn't finished yet.

"They also weren't based on the Citadel... Traynor you worked on the retrofits, get back to the Normandy and make sure whatever those grease monkeys are doing to my ship she's still spaceworthy. They can keep tweaking around with little things all they want, but I want to be able to bug out at a moment's notice." Sam hated the spark of annoyance she felt at the order, but for a brief moment she couldn't help feeling as if she was being sent away for personal reasons. _It's the exact opposite idiot, it's simply tactical; you're being sent because a job needs doing and you can do it. Sure but EDI and Cortez were both present for the retrofits they could do it just as well. Not really, they need Cortez's shuttle pilot skills and can you really see non-Normandy Alliance personnel being willing to accept orders from an AI?_ All this passed through her head in a nano-second, she tried to keep her voice free from emotion as she begrudgingly accepted the order with a simple:

"Yes ma'am." She wasn't sure if she imagined a faint, sad smile on the Commander's face as she was both acknowledged and dismissed with a nod. Shepard turning back to her planning with the squad as Sam headed back to the ship. _So much for shore leave._

...

 **Author's note:**

So there you are, my attempt to include Traynor a little bit more in the Citadel DLC, unfortunately I had to get rid of her before they started talking about the casino otherwise she would have been the obvious choice to send in the ventilation shafts and then Brooks wouldn't be able to do her important plot thing without getting caught and the whole of the Citadel DLC plot would sneak off into a completely different parallel universe and Samantha wouldn't be onboard the Normandy to save the day with her toothbrush. Anyway, in _this_ story she's safely tucked away back on the Normandy where she belongs and awaiting further orders.

casacree salvak - Shorter version of 'cranak pel casacree salvak', an insult used in the Doctor Who episode 'The Christmas Invasion' to goad the sycarox into single combat, no known translation but it must be rude.


	33. Chapter 33

Samantha had good memories of the five and a half months she spent in Vancouver to help overhaul the Normandy from a Cerberus vessel to an Alliance ship. It was the first time she'd worked outside the labs since passing training and being siphoned off to the R&D department. The first couple of weeks in the new environment had been a little unnerving but the QEC suite and other cool tech toys to play with more than made up for a little nerves. She'd had to engage in conversation with people who may have heard of Schrodinger's cat but certainly not his equation, and actually found she genuinely got on with some of them. Those who were still stationed aboard the Normandy were among her closest friends. This time however, working on the retrofits wasn't as fun. For starters they were working under much tighter time constraints, even before she'd turned up to warn them the commander wanted the ship to be capable of space travel at all times. Also as the only regular Normandy crew member onboard the citadel based retrofit team treated her differently; some of them with some sort of reverential awe of her being part of the legendary crew, which was just absurd, she was no different from any other tech-head, just like most of them. Then by other personnel she was treated almost as if she was some kind of overseer sent to spy on them which was... OK that was **kind** of true, not the spying bit just the overseer part, but still... That was no excuse for everyone to go around calling her ma'am, she was only a Lieutenant. She knew it was a term of respect and part of official regulations but it just felt weird. No wonder Shepard preferred to be addressed by either her name or rank. As for the saluting, she repressed a sigh as she stepped off the elevator into the CIC and nodded an acknowledgement to the saluting engineer waiting to enter, she had quickly learnt to keep a datapad in her right hand at all times so she could get away with a basic nod rather than having to tediously salute back every person she passed, it was so time consuming. She breathed a sigh of relief as she finally made it back to her usual work station. As she ran through the jobs list still left to do trying to decide where she would be most useful a message came through the comm system.

"Traynor, this is Shepard. Prep the Normandy for emergency departure. We're leaving. I'm sending the command codes now." Her omni-tool flashed instantaneously with a message, and she checked the alphanumeric code against the ship's database, it was a match.

"Acknowledged. We'll get underway." She turned off the comm link and activated the tannoy system "Attention all personnel. Secure and aweigh for emergency departure. All ground crew make safe your projects and disembark."

...

"Traynor." Samantha acknowledged the nod of greeting as the Commander settled into a parade rest by her side, faintly aware of Staff Analyst Brooks heading back into the elevator. "How's take off procedures going?"

"We're at 25% Commander and nearly got rid of all ground crew."

"Only 25%? I did say **emergency** departure right?" Sam gave a chuckle, this was hardly the first time Shepard had bemoaned take-off times.

"Of course, if it was a normal departure we'd still only be on 6%."

"In that case maybe I should declare departures as emergency take-offs more often... Alright, carry on Specialist." Her eyes followed the commander back towards the elevator just as a couple of troops decked out in black armour and non-standard issue weapons disembarked headed for the war room and Samantha couldn't help the snort of amusement that escaped her.

"Really Shepard? I know you said you wanted to loot the enemy, but I didn't think you'd go that far!" There was a pause as the soldier looked back at her, the silence dragging just a little too long, Sam unable to get a clear read on her partner, before the spectre finally stated with a shrug:

"It's good gear." She hit the button for Deck 1 and without really knowing why, Samantha slipped through into the lift just before the doors closed. For a moment Shepard looked as confused as Sam felt then her face cleared into a neutral tone, no emotion in her voice as she queried: "Can I help you with something Specialist?"

"What's going on Shepard? Something doesn't feel right."

"Of course things don't feel right. If all was right with the galaxy we wouldn't be at war."

 _That wasn't what I-_ Sam was at a loss of words as the soldier walked into her cabin and after a quick glance round started sweeping her model ships off the display case and into a disposal crate.

"Shepard, what are you doing?"

"Getting rid of this junk"

"Junk?"

"No more distractions. Time to focus on the mission and nothing else. No wonder we haven't won yet."

"Shepard, don't be stupid." Samantha laid a gentle hand on the Commander's arm, feeling her flinch slightly at the touch. "You know that 'junk' as you put it is here for a reason, things didn't exactly go well last time you-"

"Specialist Traynor," the commander's voice was hard as she interrupted, body tense and refusing to look in her direction. "Are you aware of Article 1165 of the Systems Alliance regulations for serving personnel?"

"That's the section on fraternization," Samantha answered, her chest tightening with a growing sense of trepidation. _This can't be happening, I know she got freaked this morning and we didn't exactly get a chance to clear things up but surely she'd never..._ "Shepard? What-"

"Do you deny being in breach of said regulation?"

"No, but..."

"The airlock is located on deck 2, you can leave through it now or wait until we're in space but I want you off my ship."

...

"Sam! Thank fuck you're alright!" Traynor had been mumbling incoherently to herself as she stood in shock outside the airlock but she paused disbelievingly as Shepard ran round the corner.

"You! You were just on the Normandy." Even in her confused state she could see the concern in the commander's eyes but all it did was flare her anger. "How can you even look me in the eye? After all that we... I thought that we... and then you fire me for fraternization! You kicked me off the ship with barely enough time to grab my toothbrush!" The initial concern and uncertainty fighting for dominance in the commander were both pushed off her face at the last sentence as Shepard tried and failed to hide her amusement.

"Oh Sam!" She was wrapped in a hug as Shepard shut her up with a kiss, attempting to pour all her emotions into the single action, no easy feat when she was experiencing so many and unused to expressing any. In the background they were dimly aware of an excited "I knew it!" from Tali and a bemused "Wait, so Lola and Sesos..." from James. Shepard pulled away gently, suddenly remembering how they'd left things, searching the specialist's eyes for any sense of anger or unease but all she found was confusion.

"Wasn't me. Evil clone." She dismissed with forced frivolity.

"But... but..." Traynor's brain was still in meltdown.

"Cerberus cloned Shepard." Tali explained as she hacked the door and it was hard to tell if the cheer in her voice was supposed to be to do with the clone's existence or getting to witness the commander's first public kiss.

"We can talk more later but for now..." Samantha watched as the commander persona was pulled front and centre as they walked towards the ship's airlock. "Dammit! Sealed. Is there anyone still aboard who can help us?"

"No, you... the other you, kicked all the mechanics and engineers onboard out. All **our** crew are still on shore leave." The full situation was finally becoming clear in the specialist's head leading to an onset of nerves and flustered breathing, Shepard grabbed her arms gently, peering reassuringly into her eyes.

"Alright Traynor, breathe. You know this ship inside and out, how do we get inside?" It was the same advice as Palaven again, the same advice that had gotten her through countless missions and as she fell into the familiar pattern her brain kicked into gear.

"There's an emergency hatch for evacuations, it should be right... here." She pulled the dock's grating cover off and Shepard crouched down to scan the uncovered entrance.

"Manual lock and it's only meant to be unlocked from the other side. Any ideas?" James was obviously going to be no help and as Tali babbled away in fluent tech-speak Sam lifted up her toothbrush, activating the miniature mass effect fields inside.

...

It was a long anxious wait on the dock hanging around for the Normandy to return. By the time it did the rest of Zulu squad were filing out of various shuttles. Shepard, she dearly hoped it was the right one, was laughing and joking with her crew as she stepped off the cargo bay ramp, her roving eyes searching out the specialist, asking a silent question and receiving a nod in return. The two of them got themselves a private taxi and programmed the autopilot for the apartment, the air between them tense and awkward as neither knew exactly where they stood or how to broach the multitude of things they needed to discuss. Eventually Traynor decided to try and to break the ice.

"So... A clone-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" Shepard snapped before immediately wincing. "Sorry. I'm sorry Sam, everyone's been taking the piss out of me for hours."

"It's alright. It's got to be pretty weird even for you."

"Even for me," she snorted, "yeah..." Silence dragged out as the spectre cast sideways glances at the specialist, there was clearly something on her mind.

"What is it?" Samantha gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, making her face as open and inviting as possible while trying not to appear pushy, there was a final sigh before with eyes facing the floor the commander asked: "did you really think she was me?"

"I..." Sam paused thinking back to what had happened and trying to find the right words, gently grasping the commander's chin she forced her to look at her. "Something felt... off... If I knew you had a clone I probably would have worked it out, but because I thought there was only one you I just assumed... Well, you're not always the most predictable person and things this morning were a little- Something else is bothering you." Her soft, soothing voice hardened at the end and she felt the commander tense. "What is it? Come on Shepard, you can talk to me."

"It doesn't matter. The galaxy doesn't need to know about my insecurities, it would probably break. It's my burden to carry. It's silly anyway."

"The galaxy doesn't need to know, but if something bothers you you should be able to talk to me about it Shepard. I don't care how silly you think it is or how messed up, I want to be here for you, to help you in any way I can." The specialist suddenly smirked, "I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

"That sounded like a quote, you did that thing with your face and everything."

"It's from Lord of the Rings when Frodo and Sa- Don't change the subject Shepard!" Silence descended again but Sam was certain she was close to a breakthrough. She glanced out the window trying to work out where they were and wondered if she could hack the taxi's navigation systems into taking a longer route without Shepard noticing. If they touched down now the commander would walk and all their progress would be lost. She was startled from her thoughts when Shepard quietly started talking again.

"She wasn't a biotic. My clone that is. She didn't have biotics, or these damn implant scars, or..." the scars had opened up again in the last 24 hours, recently they had been so faint they were only visible in the dark, hence why Sam hadn't noticed they were missing at the time. Shepard's voice dropped to almost inaudible levels as she admitted: "She was more like the old me than I am. What if... How do I know I'm really me?"

"Oh Shepard" There was something about the confession that made it sound like this wasn't the first time she'd had these thoughts, that the clone had merely brought old doubts back to the surface and Samantha felt her heart ache in sympathy. _She wasn't even going to say anything, how much else does she have buried away because she's worried of letting others down? She thinks these thoughts are weak but doesn't realise how just one of her troubles would stop a normal person. To keep going through it all regardless is so much stronger than never having doubts in the first place but if she keeps burying it all one day it'll just overflow and explode._ "I'm afraid anything I say is not going to be enough here sweetie, I didn't know you before... but Garrus and Liara and Tali did and they all believe you're you. They wouldn't follow you with such devotion if they doubted that."

"They just hope it's me. They can't be certain. Ash was right, no-one knows what I am since I came back. But they all want so badly for it to be true that they ignore any doubts, any proof, they're too scared of the idea of the galaxy without me. Merde, that sounded so egotistical."

"You don't give them enough credit, they're far too clever for that. If you have doubts talk to them." The commander stubbornly shook her head. "Look, I can't reassure you when I didn't know the old you, but what I do know is that even **if** you're not the same person who defeated Saren, and I really do believe you are, but even if... You are **definitely** the person who stopped the collectors, the person who got Rannoch back for the quarians, who got krogan and turians to work together. **You** are amazing and you can do this." There was still a shroud of uncertainty around the commander and Traynor went for broke. "And **you** are the person I've fallen hopelessly in love with."

"Even with all the scars, my weaknesses, everything?"

"Especially with the scars." Sam teased, "Although I wouldn't mind if you gave me a chance to learn them all before you keep adding to the collection."

"Even though I threw you out the bed?" Samantha hesitated just a moment.

"I **do** still want to talk about that sometime but yes, even then." Shepard leant over, placing the back of her hand against the specialist's forehead almost as if she was checking for fever.

"You must be mad."

"We're all mad here."

"Another quote?"

"Yeah, Alice in Wonderland... Shepard... Did you really mean that message? When you said you didn't think you could have anything normal?" The soldier didn't say anything but Sam could read the answer in her face and body language. "Oh, Shep-"

"Shh, it's OK." She interrupted placing a hand on the specialist's cheek, a trademark smirk streaking across her lips although the lightness didn't quite make it to her pain filled eyes. "I found a loophole and it's real cheesy... You're not normal, you're brilliant." Sam couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Ngikuthanda kakhulu." Confusion swept the commander's face, brow puckering into that adorable thinking frown Samantha loved so much.

"I didn't get that, what?" Traynor laughed again.

"You mean the great 'Zulu Actual' doesn't actually know Zulu?" The confusion was washed away by disbelieve.

"You looked up and learnt the nearly extinct language of my call sign just to insult me!?"

"Oh my intombi enhle, I'm not insulting you. I said 'ngikuthanda kakhulu'."

"Nig-kuu-fa... Ergh! What's it mean?" Samantha's grin grew broader as she saw her partner's mounting frustration at not knowing push all other thoughts out of mind.

"I'm not telling you. You'll have to find out yourself." Shepard pouted childishly before a smile overcame her whole face and she started tickling the specialist, screeches of uncontrollable laughter filling the vehicle.

"I'll stop if you tell you me what I want to know." Samantha shook her head and their antics continued until the specialist started coughing and wheezing, Shepard immediately becoming serious. "Shit Sam, where's your inhaler?" They quickly found it, the spectre watching with concern as she took a puff. Once her breathing settled down she gave a reassuring smile before it suddenly turned cheeky and she pulled out her omni-tool, typing away. She studied the screen a moment before attempting to say:

"wonke amandla, kungekho ubuchopho." Shepard's eyes widened and she pointed at the omni-tool.

"Give me that."

"Nuh-uh." Just then the taxi finally landed outside Tiberius Towers, doors automatically opening upon reaching their destination. As Shepard leaned over to reclaim her credit chit from the meter, Traynor leapt out and started sprinting towards the building. The commander swore before running after her.

"Slow down, you shouldn't be running after an asthma attack." By the time Shepard made it inside Samantha was already on the other side of the hall, hitting the button for the elevator repeatedly. It arrived at the same time as the commander and they just had the presence of mind to select their level before collapsing, panting and giggling against the floor.

...

 **Author's note:**

Another roller coaster chapter, tried to end it on a lighter note. All translations provided by google so hopefully not completely wrong.

Translations

Sesos - Spanish: brains - Vega's nickname for Traynor since I couldn't find a canon one.

merde - French: Shit

Ngikuthanda kakhulu - Zulu: I love you so much

intombi enhle - Zulu: beautiful girlfriend

wonke amandla, kungekho ubuchopho - Zulu: Lit. All power/strength, no brain. There wasn't a translation for brawn.


	34. A challenge

"Commander, are you there?" Samantha called out as she entered the apartment. She knew Shepard didn't like the formal entrance to what was supposed to be their home but she had no wish for a repeat of the Anderson vid-comm incident.

"In here Sam." The call came from the downstairs bedroom slash gym, and she made her way over only to find a topless Lieutenant Vega stood watching her partner on the pull up bar. She couldn't stop the small spark of jealousy even though she knew the commander had no interest in men and James would never initiate anything regardless. He was however still a man and she felt a need to gently elbow him as she walked past.

"Eyes Vega."

"Sorry Sesos, didn't mean anything by it. You're one lucky woman." Shepard merely smirked at the exchange as she kept with the pull ups, finally locking out her arms as Samantha got close, but refusing to let go of the bar or allow her feet to touch the floor as she planted a brief kiss on the specialist's cheek.

"Sorry thandwa, bet in progress. Give me a minute?" Sam felt a flicker inside her at the use of the Zulu term of endearment. What had started as a silly idea in a moment of boredom and unveiled during a tactical distraction had been fully embraced by her partner. Once she'd made certain she wasn't being insulted of course.

"Gonna take more than a minute even for you Lola." James jibed.

"Take as long as you need, just make sure you win." Samantha permitted, throwing herself on the bed to watch. As Shepard continued exercising she had to admit, she couldn't blame Vega for looking.

"One Hundred!" Vega announced suddenly, Traynor holding in a groan when she realised the nice round, _and ridiculously high_ , number wasn't the stopping point. _I'm surrounded by sadists and masochists._

"Yeah we... definitely... using your... counting system Vega... I'm only on... 48." The commander grunted out between reps. James looked briefly confused and as if he was about to question it, but Sam interrupted with a flash of realisation:

"Really!? Let me guess, all this is because James asked what your PB was and you didn't know, so now you've got beat his?" Nods accompanied her speculation.

"I only start... counting... when it starts... hurting... because they're the only ones... that count."

"Muhammad Ali, World Heavyweight boxing champion on Earth back in the 1960s and 70s" Sam informed them, waving her omni-tool in response to their questioning looks and trying not to burst out in laughter at the way Shepard was frozen in surprise mid-rep.

"You gotta stop finding the original source for all my Dad's quotes Traynor. You're completely destroying my memory of him as an annoying mystical smartarse."

"And I thought it was only straight women who looked for a partner like their father."

"I'd flip you the finger but I'm afraid I'd fall. Consider yourself officially sworn at."

"You know most people would be happy with just a hundred." Vega stated as she resumed her reps.

"Do I **look** like most people?"

"I'm making a cup of tea, anybody want anything to drink?" The specialist asked suddenly, pulling herself to her feet. There was far too much testosterone in the room and there was only so much appreciation of Shepard's chiseled muscles tightening and contracting while sweat trickled down her abs that she could manage without either thinking or doing something that wouldn't be considered acceptable behavior with other people present. James looked like he was about to reply but the commander beat him to it:

"If you ask for a beer right now I'm gonna biotic pull you over here, strangle you to death with my legs and then **still** beat your goddamn record." She warned, still not letting go of the bar despite slowing her reps so she could talk easier.

"How about a protein shake, am I allowed one of those?" He asked, gaze flicking between both women, uncertain precisely which one he should be talking to. Shepard gave a nod.

"Make that two protein shakes please Sam. Thanks thandwa." She barely made it out the room before there was a buzz on the intercom.

"Check it." The commander's voice ordered behind her and she glanced back to find her partner serious and alert and STILL hanging from the damn pull up bar, Vega dropping a pistol at her feet then rushing forward with two assault rifles. He left one leaning against the frame of the bedroom door and took up position on the other side, sending a nod confirming his readiness back to Shepard who sent one on to Traynor to answer the call.

"I've got a delivery for a Ms... Redi Govana?" An asari stated and Sam could see another on the monitor screen, along with two very tall and bulky packages in the background. She wasn't sure if it was just the heightened state of alert after the clone incident but she couldn't help thinking of the Legend of Troy, she was just about to inform the asari that there was no-one of that name here when she was interrupted by a snort of repressed laughter.

"Yeah that was me. Let them in. The items are for the kitchen but just have them dump it anywhere, I can sort it out once I'm done here." Sam passed on the instructions to the delivery people who used their biotics to lift and move the heavy boxes. The specialist signed for them, assuming it didn't really matter who did it when the name was fake anyway. Once the workers were gone she gave in to her curiosity and started opening up the box only to discover a fridge-freezer. She gaped in disbelief. Apparently Shepard still felt bad about punching the one that came with the apartment even though it still worked perfectly. Maybe she was being biased but she couldn't help think even with a dent in it, the existing sleek and stylish model looked better than the new Alliance blue monstrosity she had just unleashed.

"What do you think?" Shepard called out from the gym.

"Err... It's certainly very practical." She hedged as she started working on the second package. Her lover was multi talented but it appeared an awareness of aesthetic style was not one of her attributes.

"Great, that means you don't like it... Let me guess, not in keeping with the rest of the decor?" A chuckle of understanding left Samantha's throat as she unveiled the second object, an identical fridge-freezer in bright red. She re-entered the gym, noting the concerned look on the commander's face.

"Want me to send them back?" Sam shook her head with a smile.

"No, it's ok. It might not be in keeping with the apartment but it's perfectly in keeping with you." Her girlfriend's whole face seemed to light up as she grinned in relief. "Do you want me to clear out a cupboard for Tali and Garrus too? There's got to be food they like that can't be frozen. Oh will they need a separate set of pans and oven trays? What about-"

"You really don't mind?" Shepard cut her off.

"Well... I draw the line at painting the whole cupboard red if that's what you're thinking, but no, I have no problem keeping dextro food in the house."

"Holly hell you did it!" James suddenly exclaimed, walking forward to congratulate his stubborn, sweaty and exhausted looking boss. He backed up slightly, confused as instead of dropping down to the floor she simply glared at him.

"Piss off, ain't finished yet... I'm not having you come in here next week saying I gotta beat one-eighty-four or some shit. I'm raising the bar amigo." James glanced at Samantha in shock and horror, the words ' _what have I done?'_ stamped across his forehead clear as day, she simply shook her head resignedly as Shepard continued her pull-ups.

"Come on babe, you've won the bet. No point tiring yourself out needlessly, you've still got to move those freezers around yet."

"It's not needlessly! My reputation's on the line here Sam, there's a principle at stake. Besides... you should know I have plenty of stamina." The last part was spoken suggestively and she barked a laugh at the twin blushes spreading across the other occupants of the room.

"Dios mío. Too much information Lola"

"Really! Are you **sure** you're a marine Vega? You'd never make it through N-school if **that** can make you blush." She finally dropped down with a cry of "A hundred and ninety!" She stepped towards Traynor, arms raised in victory, an exhausted albeit accomplished smile on her face, but the specialist held up a hand and shook her head mischievously.

"You. Stink. You're not getting a kiss until you've showered." Shepard tried to pout but it was ineffective, Sam simply pointing to the bathroom behind the pull up bar. James erupting into laughter as the commander meekly slunk inside.

"Hey, either of you going to come in and make sure I'm not cheating?" She suddenly called out above the sound of streaming water. The two lieutenants sharing a glance.

"Uh, I think that's my cue to leave." Before he can get away Samantha held her hand up once again.

"Where do you think you're going James? You've been working out too. The Alliance has a reputation of professionalism to uphold, we can't have you wandering the Citadel all smelly. There's another shower upstairs, go on, off you go." It was Shepard's turn to start cackling as she heard the big marine's attempted protests.

"Trust me Vega, it's much quicker to just do what she wants."

"Mierda, I never should have come here. Remind me next time to bring backup."

...

 **Translations**

Sesos - Spanish: brains - Vega nickname for Traynor

thandwa - Zulu: dear - Used as a generic term of endearment for Sam by Shepard as it's the most pronounceable of the options.

redigovana - Bosnian: redacted. Remember how even Tali and the SR-1ers don't seem to know Shepard's first name calling her "Commander [Redacted] Insanity Hypocrisy Danger Shepard" when she joked that hypocrisy was her middle name? Yeah maybe I play around with google translate too much with this story.

Dios mío - Spanish: My god


	35. Chapter 35

"Are you planning to sleep tonight?" The softly spoken question surprised her but not as much as the specialist's response when she shook her head apologetically. "Can I stay up with you?" She hadn't wanted that, to be an inconvenience, to disrupt Sam's sleep or routine or... Actually, looking back she wasn't entirely sure what her argument had been against. It was a good thing she hadn't the heart to protest. It had been nice, spending as much time together as possible, just watching vids late into the night. By 0600 however Sam was spent. Shepard smiled down at the woman curled around her, desperately fighting to keep her eyes open and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Come on, bedtime." She stood slowly, lifting the specialist with her to sleepy protest. Protests that might have been more effective if she hadn't been interrupted by a yawn mid sentence.

"How do you stay up night after night and still have the energy to go out fighting during the day?"

"I'm still working through my reserves, I've got a two year backlog to take advantage of." Sam nodded in understanding and agreement as she was carried up the stairs before her face suddenly scrunched up when the words penetrated her brain.

"Pretty sure it doesn't work like that."

"No? You got scientific graphs and experiment results proving your hypothesis?"

"No, but there's nowhere to store rest, you can't build up reserves without a place to store it. That's silly."

"Not as silly as not believing the evidence right before your eyes. I'm the walking proof that my theory is correct."

"Walking anomaly more like. You're probably the exception that proves **my** rule. You seem to be an exception to just about every rule ever." Shepard smiled as she laid her down gently on the bed.

"So we're going with 'because you said so'? I think your brain's tired. Get some sleep thandwa, maybe you'll think of a better argument when you wake." Samantha grasped hold of her hand before she could leave.

"What are you going to do?" There was so much hidden concern behind the question, Shepard knew Sam didn't like the idea of her sitting alone with nothing to do but get caught in her thoughts. Truthfully it wasn't something she was keen on either, it's why she avoided sleep in the first place and the reason she always tried to keep busy with something, no matter how trivial. A few weeks ago the idea of someone else knowing that fact would have terrified her.

"Don't worry the others will be up and about soon, I'll go bug them for a few hours, maybe hit the Armax arena. Do you want to meet for lunch?" There was a tired nod, it was clear Sam wouldn't remain conscious much longer. "Ok, message me when you're up." She waited until her partner's eyes drifted shut, placing another kiss to her forehead before leaving the house.

...

The latest distraction lasted even less time than the previous one. She'd done several laps of the arcade but there was still no sign of her lunch date. Giving up Shepard decided to check out the top floor and finally found Traynor sat opposite a salarian at a game table. She stayed silent, watching as Sam typed something on the haptic interface, a holographic ship moving across the board. Her opponent seemed to suffer a shock and while Shepard wasn't entirely sure what was happening her confusion mixed with a smidgen of pride as the more knowledgeable crowd members applauded her partner.

"Brilliant endgame. Excellent use of the Bay-Lucien Gambit." The salarian congratulated and Shepard jumped on the word gambit.

"Is this space chess?" Traynor turned, eyes lighting up at the sight of her partner.

"It's called kepesh-yakshi, Blade of the Night Winds. The Asari have played it since- We were supposed to meet for lunch. I am so sorry," Shepard waved it away with a smile but Samantha didn't seem to notice and continued apologising, "I entered the tournament on a lark, I never thought I'd get this far."

"Oh don't worry, you'll be free to join your friend in twenty moves or fewer." Traynor's annoyance at the familiar condescending voice was tempered slightly by the sight of the commander's mouthed 'friend?' complete with raised eyebrow and self pointing finger.

"T'Suzsa." Shepard could read everything she needed to know about the situation from Sam's body language and the tone of her voice as the specialist turned to face the interruption.

"Traynor." The commander bristled at the dismissiveness in the asari's tone and it was clear her intombi was affected by it. There was a split second of opportunity as the rivals sized each other up and Shepard took it.

"Saren." Both faces snapped round to stare at her. "Oh I'm sorry. I thought we were all naming our mortal enemies." Some of the tension eased off Sam's shoulders as her lips twitched slightly and it was clear she'd got under T'Suzsa's skin.

"Would you like to just give me your frigates now? I always take them sooner or later." The asari trash talked, trying to regain control of the mental battlefield but Shepard was wise to the tactic, it looked like she'd finally stumbled across a worthy mission for the day: ensure her intombi became space chess champion.

"Polgara T'Suzsa. She's knocked me out of four tournaments." Sam was explaining.

"Yeah but that was before you became a super awesome mission controller and data analyst at the helm of the Normandy."

"Joker and EDI are at the helm commander, I'm much further back than that. Don't you know the layout of your own ship?"

"I know the important bits. The armoury, the mess hall, the _showers_... By the way did I mention how my shower is solely for winners? Can't run the risk of coming into contact with loser-ism if it's contagious."

"Oh that's cold!"

"Not as cold as the crew showers on deck 3." Shepard shot straight back without missing a beat. "I hear the faucets are crap too."

"All right, that's it. She's going down!"

...

They descended the stairs arms wrapped around each other, spare hand clutching the trophy, but Samantha pulled up short when they reached the bottom glancing at the state of the arcade.

"Uhh, Shepard?" She wasn't fooled by the neutral sounding noise that was the reply. "Am I supposed to be impressed or concerned? Did someone challenge you again?"

"No, I was just waiting for you." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"So you decided to whitewash every high-score board in here?"

"That's not true! I left Towers of Hanoi alone. And look over there, someone else got back on the Shattered Eezo scoreboard." Sam shook her head in disbelief but there was a smile on her lips as she stated:

"You're impossible."

"Not impossible." Shepard grumbled self-consciously. "Just a bit unlikely."

...

 **Author's note:**

Sorry for the massive delay on this one. I'll be honest, updates for this story are likely to remain few and far between, most of my creative inspiration at the moment has been for my OC love interest x FemShep story 'First Love' and it's likely to remain my main focus for awhile. I have a couple of half ideas for chapters but I feel that if I tried to force myself to write updates for Badly Titled Adventures at the moment Nikki Shepard would start bleeding through instead of the 'Commander [Redacted] Shepard' that is supposed to be the character in this story. Hopefully you'll get the rest of the story at some point but don't hold your breath.

Translations: All the Zulu in this chapter has been used before but it's been a while so...

Thandwa - dear

Intombi - girlfriend


End file.
